


Somebody to Love

by tenandi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crowley is soft AF, Cutesy fluff, Dom Aziraphale/Sub Crowley, Dystopian Heaven/Earth combo, Fluff meets S&M, Forbidden Love, Master/Pet, Pet Play, Unexpected Crackfic, wtf did i write?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenandi/pseuds/tenandi
Summary: There’s nothing like the unconditional love of a pet. But caring for one is a commitment that requires much more than just bringing them home from the store. Do you have what it takes to be a pet owner? (Pet WebMD)Aziraphale is ready to get a pet. And this might be the most demented thing I’ve ever written.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 150





	1. Are you ready for a pet?

Aziraphale was ready. He’d read up on the benefits and drawbacks, done proper research into breeding and traits, and most importantly, finished the important work of pet-proofing his home. Nearly everyone in his acquaintance had already taken the plunge, and although he’d argued he was perfectly content on his own, he’d secretly wished for the companionship a pet could offer.

It was his friend Gabriel who had recommended a top tier breeder in the area, one Madame Tracy, who’s website promised only the crème de la crème of British stock. Fortunately she operated a small storefront, so one could meet the available selection in person, which was preferable to Aziraphale. He made his way over on a particularly sunny afternoon.

Madame Tracy greeted him personally upon his arrival, and was open to addressing all of his questions and concerns on the topic. She’d been in business for over twenty years, and had ample advice to offer on care, feeding, and security considerations for new owners. She spoke at length while touring Aziraphale down a few small aisles in her shop featuring harnesses, leashes, bowls, and toys. It seemed she’d thought of everything, but there was one matter more pressing than all the rest. Which pet to choose?

Aziraphale followed her into the back to view the showroom which was filled with several well-kept pens.

“This is a very personal decision,” Madame Tracy said. “Why don’t you take some time to examine the inventory, and I’ll be back to answer any questions when I return.”

Aziraphale nodded thankfully. He wanted to trust his own instincts and preferred not to be distracted by sales pitches or commentary. He began to walk down the line, peering into each pen before reading the provided names and short descriptions that accompanied each. He was beginning to get a little discouraged as he neared the end of the row. While many of the pets were quite fine looking with significant pedigrees, they failed to make a personal connection with the angel. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, only that he’d know it when he saw it, and at last, he did.

Aziraphale came closer to the final pen and was delighted by what he found there. At first there was just a blur of auburn and ebony. He realized he must have startled the poor creature and called to it with the gentlest voice he could manage. A great black wing drew back, revealing cautious amber eyes peeking out under beautiful red ringlets, and Aziraphale was instantly smitten. In the next instant, there was a flash of movement and a gnashing of teeth at the bars, sending the angel reeling back in shock.

Madame Tracy arrived at his side and shooed the creature back. “Temperamental thing!” she chastised. “I do apologize,” she said to Aziraphale, “Sometimes even fine breeding can’t compete with a rebellious disposition.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aziraphale interrupted breathlessly, his fingers hooking over the bars as he ventured nearer. He glanced at the placard to see that this one was called “Crowley, Anthony J.” Sired by Lucifer and Lilith, two exemplary demons in a long line of purebreds. An instinctive realization hit him. “I think this one was made for me.”

“Are you quite sure?” Madame Tracy asked. “He’ll be quite a handful and will require a strong hand to keep him in line.”

Aziraphale raised one eyebrow before looking askance at the breeder. “I'll figure it out, I assure you. Can I get a closer look?”

Madame Tracy nodded, grabbing a nearby lead and entering the pen alone to attach it. Crowley batted at her hands but the breeder’s confidence won the day, pulling him sulkily along behind her for presentation. Aziraphale circled the redhead, observing his sharp-lined silhouette approvingly.

“Are you sure those pants aren’t too tight?” he asked with concern. "They look positively painted on."

“He finds them comforting,” the breeder said.

“And this?” the angel indicated toward the strange silver scarf around Crowley’s neck.

Madame Tracy shrugged. “Personal expression, I believe.”

Aziraphale made a few more rounds before gently pinching Crowley’s cheeks, revealing the clean but deadly-looking incisors in his mouth. Crowley automatically licked at his lips when the angel withdrew.

“I’ll take him,” Aziraphale said.

Madame Tracy helped the angel gather a few supplies before escorting Crowley to the front room. Aziraphale settled his bill and took Crowley’s lead in hand.

“I’m just a call away if anything comes up,” Madame Tracy reminded him.

Aziraphale nodded and snapped his fingers, instantly transporting his new pet and accessories back home.

The angel quickly removed Crowley’s leash and the redhead froze on the spot before moving to explore every available inch of the flat, his fingers pulling at locked cabinet doors and feeling over every available surface. Aziraphale watched him run around, an amused smirk on his face.

Crowley sniffed at a large potted plant and sneezed, drawing a chuckle from his owner. The redhead shot him a resentful glance but was too fascinated by the greenery to maintain it. His fingers stroked over the leaves reverently.

“Well, we’ll have to pick out a few more of those, hm?” the angel suggested. Crowley’s face turned into a mixture of excitement and delight.

It was then that the demon noticed the wine fridge on the counter. He scampered across the room and scratched at the exterior with a hopeful glance at Aziraphale.

“Later,” the angel said.

Crowley stuck out his lower lip and one of his angular hips jutted to the side.

“Now, now,” Aziraphale warned. “I said later.”

Crowley rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and folded his arms with a huff.

“Oh for Heaven’s sake-” the angel gave in, grabbing a mini bottle of red from the fridge and handing it over. He couldn’t resist the grin that spread over his face when the demon examined the vintage before twisting off the top, sipping it like a sommelier.

Aziraphale moved closer and ran his fingers through Crowley’s auburn locks. “Persnickety little thing,” he cooed. The demon moved into his touch luxuriously.

“Come with me,” the angel instructed, leading him toward the bedroom. Crowley followed on his heels as the blonde indicated toward a majestic brocade bed on the floor. “This is where you’ll sleep.”

The demon stared at the small bed before his eyes raised to the glorious four-poster king behind it. His gaze slipped toward the angel’s questioningly.

“No, no,” Aziraphale said softly, pointing toward the red cushion again. “You’ll sleep here.”

Suddenly, The angel remembered he’d purchased some toys for the demon. Perhaps if he placed them around the little bed he’d have more luck communicating his intentions. “Be right back,” he said before leaving the room. He searched through the multiple bags he’d miracled home until he found what he’d been looking for. One was a stuffed letter ‘B’ with wings on it. He wasn’t sure of the significance but Madame Tracy had insisted it was the demon’s favorite. The other was a rubber snake. He grabbed both and marched back to the bedroom.

His jaw, along with the toys, dropped to the floor when he arrived. The redhead had abandoned his half-drunk bottle of Malbec on the side table. The demon himself was sprawled across the king-bed, eyes closed and mouth open, every limb sunk deep into the fluffy white comforter.

The angel’s eyes moved to the demon’s dirty boots which had scuffed all over the pristine white covers. Aziraphale should have been angry, but he felt his heart twist pathetically instead. “Poor little dear is all tuckered out,” the angel breathed. He moved to lay by Crowley’s side, his fingers roving through that brilliant red hair again. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” he said tenderly.


	2. Socialization

Aziraphale woke up with a nosefuls of curls and a strong but skinny leg thrown over his own. He grunted, trying to maneuver within the foot of bed space the demon had left him.

“Come on, then,” he said, “Time to get up.”

Crowley growled, gripping at the covers near his face as Aziraphale pulled on them.

“Don’t you dare,” the angel warned. “Out of bed now. We’re meeting a friend this morning.” He yanked hard on the comforter and Crowley stubbornly went with it, landing on the floor unceremoniously. With a resentful huff the demon raised to his full height, pretending to dust off his shoulders and looking decidedly contrary.

“Someone is not a morning demon,” the blonde mumbled to himself.

Aziraphale grabbed the half-finished wine bottle and thrust it at him, soothing some of the demon’s dramatics. Crowley followed his master out of the bedroom in mute protest, drinking along the way.

“You need to eat some real food,” Aziraphale mentioned when they arrived in the kitchen. He shook a box of ‘demon-flakes’ at the redhead and only received a scowl in response. “You can’t live on wine!” the angel exclaimed. Crowley did not seem to agree, and tapped at the wine fridge adamantly.

“You’re impossible,” Aziraphale groused as he gave a second mini-bottle to the redhead, who consumed it greedily. “I’m going to go get ready,” he instructed. “Stay out of trouble.”

Crowley gave him his most demure eyelash flutter while pointing to himself incredulously.

“Oh please,” the angel said, trying to hide a small smile. He left to take a long shower and to prepare himself for their outing.

Aziraphale was feeling quite pleased with himself when he finished, sporting a new tartan jumper and cream slacks that looked smashing. He grabbed the matching tartan collar he’d purchased for Crowley and went to find him.

No sooner had he entered the living room than his face fell. “Anthony J. Crowley!” the angel shouted. “What in Heaven have you done?”

The demon’s eyes snapped up. He’d started by innocently browsing through the angel’s records, but as he’d searched, he’d begun to discard those that displeased him over his shoulder. Some of the most wretched ones (in his opinion) were thrown clear across the room. In no time at all, the room looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Once realizing what a mess he’d created, Crowley scrambled under the dining room table to outrun punishment, but that only tugged on the angel’s heartstrings.

“Now, now,” Aziraphale said gently, trying to coax the demon out. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please come here, darling.” He held out his hand and Crowley took it tentatively. “I’ll get this settled once we get back,” he said calmly, placing the tartan collar around the redhead’s neck. “For now, let’s get a wiggle on. Our friends are expecting us.”

The angel grabbed a leash and attached it to the collar before leading his demon outside. Immediately Crowley balked, holding up an arm against the sun’s blazing light.

“Oh yes, nearly forgot,” Aziraphale said, scrambling back inside to grab a pair of dark sunglasses. Madam Tracy had told him about using them outdoors. He handed them to the demon who affixed them to his face like a second skin, once again happy to trail after his master.

Crowley sauntered along, hands stuck in his pockets as he took in the sights around them. Once or twice he stopped to admire a particularly well-arranged garden or to ‘tsk’ at those in need of attention. On the way they ran into various neighbors who were particularly impressed by Aziraphale’s new pet, cooing over his beautiful black feathers and royal bearing. Crowley took in all the praise like a peacock, and even flexed a bit under the scrutiny of a handsome gentleman who seemed to take too much interest in his owner. (And secretly stuck his tongue out at the man once he walked away).

Finally they arrived at a huge house three blocks down, and Aziraphale rapped at the door while gazing proudly at Crowley. “Wait til’ he gets a look at you,” the angel confided with a slightly catty smile on his face.

Gabriel opened the door and greeted his friend before assessing his new companion.

“Wow!” the archangel exclaimed. “What a little beauty!”

Crowley looked away bashfully and sidled up to his owner. “Now, now, don’t be shy, Crowley,” Aziraphale said comfortingly. “This is Mr. Gabriel. And I believe there’s someone else we’d like you to meet?” He looked at the brunette expectantly.

“Ah yes,” Gabriel replied, beckoning them inside. “We’ll go out to the yard. They can be a little territorial at first.”

The party moved to the backyard, which instantly entranced Crowley. The garden beds were perfectly kept, and there was even a small vegetable patch that was thriving. He was so enamored with the plants he didn’t notice the shadow lurking behind him.

“Who the fuck are you?” a voice demanded. Crowley jumped and turned toward the source of the surprise, a shortish demon with wild raven hair and a foreboding posture.

“Beelzebub!” Gabriel scolded. “Be nice to our guest!”

Crowley looked over at the archangel with a question in his eyes, but Bee was already looming over him. “Don’t even think about it!” they hissed.

The redhead twerked his brows in the international sign language for “What? Him?” He decidedly had no interest in trying to steal their owner’s affection. Instead of reacting, Crowley merely turned back toward the plants and busied himself with the removal of some dead leaves. Bee backed away, but kept a wary eye on the interloper.

“Don’t worry,” Gabriel said to Aziraphale who looked noticeably anxious. “They’ll warm up to him. Tell me about the adoption process! I’m dying to hear every detail!”

The angels quickly lost themselves in conversation while Crowley began to walk around the yard, taking in the sights and the smells of the garden.

“Enjoying yourself?” Bee asked, falling in line behind him.

Crowley shrugged. He hadn’t spent that much time around other pets and wasn’t sure what the appropriate responses were. He stopped near a stuffed fly on the ground and kicked it aimlessly.

“That’s mine!” Bee protested before chasing after it. They clutched it in their arms before noticing Crowley looked a little crestfallen. They threw the toy at him, and he caught it with a surprised smirk. Bee smiled back. In no time, the two were playing catch and tug-of-war as the angels looked on.

“Fucking adorable,” Gabriel commented. “I was hoping they’d get along.”

Aziraphale beamed, and was delighted when he heard a short burst of laughter bubble up from his demon as Bee tackled him. The pair twisted around each other, scrambling over the toy gleefully.

“Oh, Bee!” Gabriel called out, their head perking up from the tangle of limbs on the grass. “I think it’s time for a snack!” Bee jumped up and ran toward the archangel, resting their chin on his shoulder expectantly. “Do you think your friend is hungry?” Bee nodded eagerly.

“How do you get Bee to eat?” Aziraphale asked. “Crowley refuses. He’ll accept nothing but wine.”

“Really?” Gabriel asked as he walked inside the house. “You’re not using those tasteless demon flakes, are you?”

Aziraphale went red. “Am I not supposed to?” he asked as he stepped inside the kitchen.

“You’re going to love this,” Gabriel confided. He brought out a huge fruit basket, handing Beelzebub two red apples. “Share with your friend.”

Aziraphale watched Bee run back out into the yard, handing a fruit to Crowley before sitting on the grass. Something serpentine took over the redhead’s features before he sank his teeth into the apple, looking positively devious.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, astonished. “Pets like apples?”

“Not just apples,” Gabriel explained. “They love anything associated with sin, hence Crowley’s affinity for alcohol. They also love coffee since it gives people the jitters. Let’s see, what else… Pork, deviled eggs, pineapple on pizza…”

“Wait, that last one?” the blonde questioned.

“If it’s not a sin it should be,” the archangel averred. “And I know the eggs are only loosely associated but they like the idea of them. You have a lot to learn, Aziraphale.”

“I certainly do!” he agreed. “Perhaps you can offer some other advice. I can’t seem to make Crowley stay in his pet bed.”

“Oh yeah,” Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes. “Good luck with that. Bee basically has the run of the bedroom. Sometimes I feel like I’m the pet and she’s the master!” They shared a good laugh, but Aziraphale could tell it was less of a joke and more of a prediction. He’d have to keep on his toes to ensure Crowley didn’t walk all over him.

“Well,” the angel announced. “We should probably get on our way.” He called for Crowley who had finished his treat and was now standing idly next to Beelzebub.

“Guess I’ll see you next time,” they said. The redhead ducked his head shyly and gave them a smile before going back to his master. To the angel’s surprise, Crowley grabbed his hand and held on tightly.

“Look at that,” Gabriel said admiringly. “Already bonding! He’s a keeper, Zira.”

“Indeed he is!” the blonde agreed. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow!” The friends bid each other good day and Aziraphale led his demon back home, not even needing the leash as they went. Crowley’s fingers remained tightly interlaced with his own.


	3. Separation Anxiety

Aziraphale enjoyed a quiet evening with Crowley, who mostly rested against his legs while the angel read in his armchair. His hand stroked over the demon’s red curls as the fireplace crackled in front of them. Soon it was time for bed and the angel went about establishing a routine for Crowley, which included a thorough brushing and the donning of black silk pajamas. After tending to his pet, Aziraphale brushed his teeth and changed into his tartan PJ’s, already halfway asleep by the time he came to bed.

Once again, the demon was sprawled over the comforter on his stomach, but this time he was still awake.

“Down Crowley,” Aziraphale commanded. The demon stared at him, unmoving.

“I said down!” the angel warned. The redhead looked unimpressed and remained where he was.

Aziraphale huffed before turning toward the supplies he’d been provided by Madame Tracy. There was one object he was loath to use, but desperate times… He turned around and wielded the paddle ironically engraved with ‘XOXO.’ He supposed that sometimes punishment could be an act of love, if only for his pet’s good. He held it up, repeating his command.

Crowley tilted his head, observing the paddle with interest as Aziraphale stalked toward him. “Last warning,” the blonde growled. He brought the paddle high up into the air and whacked it against the demon’s right buttock, eliciting a whoop of surprise from the redhead. Immediately Crowley scrambled from the bed and hid next to the dresser, his eyes wide and focused on the paddle.

“You see?” Aziraphale said unhappily. “This is why you need to obey!”

He chucked the paddle on the side table next to his pillow and flounced down on the bed, feeling terrible. He hated to hurt Crowley. Hopefully he’d learned his lesson quickly and that would be the end of it. Aziraphale was just moving to turn off the lamp when he heard a rustle and felt the significant dip of weight on the mattress.

“Crowley…” the blonde said angrily, turning toward the demon.

Something strange flickered in the demon’s eyes, his fingers bunching in the sheets.

Aziraphale grabbed the paddle once more and held it up in a threatening gesture. “I really don’t want to do this,” he said. Crowley narrowed his eyes and smirked.

“Why you...feisty little miscreant!” Aziraphale grumbled. He reached over and spanked the demon soundly, three times in a row. Again Crowley retreated, but still had the mischievous smile on his face. Aziraphale ignored it, turning toward the lamp once more and clicking the room into darkness. His hand still gripped the paddle in case he needed to use it again. The demon was positively incorrigible.

The angel couldn’t help but feel defeated when Crowley jumped back on the bed, and was beyond mystified when the demon’s hand closed over his own, drawing the paddle back toward his rear.

“Oh,” Aziraphale realized all at once, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course. You like it, don’t you?” He threw the paddle across the room, much to Crowley’s dismay. “Your punishment is not being punished,” the angel said tiredly. This seemed to do the trick. Crowley crawled toward the foot of the bed to pout. At least he wouldn’t be overcrowded, the angel thought. He would have to work on correcting the demon’s behaviors the following day. For now he was much too exhausted, and wiggled in his sheets before falling promptly asleep.

-

Aziraphale awoke with the demon tangled around him once more, but he was too concerned with arriving at work on time to do anything about it. Crowley watched him with interest as he got ready, and even jumped up when the angel was about to walk out the door.

“No, Crowley,” the angel instructed. “I’m leaving for work and you shall stay here. You have an important job as well. To uh...to...guard the house!”

The redhead went from a dejected stance to one of great pride. He squared his shoulders and his eyes snapped from left to right, ever vigilant.

“There’s a good boy,” Aziraphale praised. “I’ll be back this evening. Have a good day!” He shut the door abruptly, already missing his demon and worrying about being apart for so many hours. He’d heard of a pet sitting service but wanted to try leaving Crowley alone initially. Many demons did well on their own according to his friends. Aziraphale steeled himself as he walked away, ignoring the rustle of window blinds and knowing that the redhead was watching him until he was out of sight. Today was going to be a long, long day.

After an absolute nightmare of a Monday, Aziraphale returned home and rested his forehead on the front door. Metatron had given the entire celestial office a stern talking to about the annual report which was running woefully behind its due date, and much of that responsibility fell on Aziraphale. Work stress had been one of the main reasons the angel finally decided to get a pet, hearing that they had restorative effects on their owners.

That was not the feeling invoked when Aziraphale opened his front door, however. Quite the opposite, in fact. The blonde stumbled inside, eyes surveying the carnage. The house was in ruins. There were deep gouges in the walls, tattered scraps of paper and millions of tiny black feathers littering the floor. As he walked into the kitchen, broken dishes crunched under his shoes. Aziraphale moved to the bottom of the staircase, noting the shattered glass on several framed photos leading to the second floor.

“Crowley!” his voice boomed out, but there was no response. Aziraphale stomped up the stairs and saw an endless line of toilet paper that had been pulled from its roll in the bathroom. More than one of his nice button-down shirts were wrinkled on the floor as if Crowley had built a nest out of them. He entered his bedroom, fully prepared to find the demon cowering in the corner.

Instead, Crowley was fast asleep on the bed, a tartan bowtie tangled in his fingers. Aziraphale saw upon closer look that tear-tracks lined the demon’s cheeks. His closed eyes were red and puffy as if he’d done nothing but cry all day. All the fight went out of the blonde as he settled on the bed, fingers stroking through the splayed red curls.

“Crowley…” he said gently.

The demon opened one yellow eye and it sharpened into focus, the sight before him riveting his body like the crack of a whip. Instantly Crowley’s hands were all over Aziraphale, his face tucked into the crook of his neck. Crowley was whimpering as if Aziraphale had died and been reborn all over again.

“Oh, shh now, so dramatic,” the blonde said fondly. “I was only gone for a handful of hours.”

Crowley whimpered again, drawing himself into his owner’s lap. “Zira!” the demon cried piteously.

Aziraphale drew his head back to look at the redhead properly. “Why...you said my name!” he said proudly.

“Zira!” Crowley said again, looking hopeful.

“Very good, dear,” the angel commended. “Though you’ve made quite a shambles of our home.”

Crowley had the decency to look ashamed, but nuzzled back into the angel’s neck and nipped at it delicately. Aziraphale sighed. “This must be that separation anxiety I read about. Should have known better than to leave you on your own.” He decided right there and then that a phone call to Gabriel was in order.

He tried to stand up but the demon was holding onto him too tightly. Eventually he made it a few steps, even as Crowley locked onto his ankle and was dragged along until the angel could reach the phone. He picked it up and dialed, hoping Gabriel wasn’t otherwise occupied. After a few rings his friend answered.

Aziraphale explained his troubles while Crowley clung to him desperately, but fortunately Gabriel had dealt with these issues before. After a long conversation including an explanation of Crowley’s reaction to the paddle, Gabriel had plenty of advice to offer. Aziraphale thanked him for his assistance before replacing the phone on its receiver.

“Well I’m better prepared for tomorrow,” he said, “but there still remain a few other issues. Your hygiene, for one.” The redhead stared up at him, unaware that he was covered in dust, feathers, and all sorts of grime from his tirade through the house. Aziraphale summoned him to the bathroom and set him on the toilet lid before closing the bathroom door. As an afterthought, he snapped his fingers to restore his home to its proper condition.

When the water started Crowley grew anxious, immediately looking for the closest exit, but Aziraphale secured the door with a small miracle.

“Look,” the angel explained. “You’re going to take a bath, understand? You don’t have to like it, but the less you fight it, the better.”

Crowley shook his head and flattened flush against the wall as if to make himself disappear, but Aziraphale was not falling for it. The blonde got down on his hands and knees as the bath began to fill.

“Come here, Crowley!” the angel demanded, trying for and yanking off one snakeskin boot.

Crowley wiggled away, straining against the wall as Aziraphale captured another shoe and the sock that went with it. By this method, it would take an hour just to get the demon undressed. He needed to try another tack.

The angel sat back on his heels and drew off his own coat before folding it neatly on the floor next to him. “See what I did there?” he asked.

Crowley eyed him suspiciously.

“I bet you can do it too,” Aziraphale suggested.

The redhead nodded, slowly taking off his black jacket.

The angel praised him, and then slid his bowtie off with a single pull. “Now you,” he said.

Crowley took off his bolo tie, setting it on top of the discarded jacket.

“Very good,’ Aziraphale said. He unbuttoned the cuffs on his oxford and beckoned the demon near as he stood. Crowley came to him cautiously.

“There, there,” the angel said soothingly as he bunched up the hem of the demon’s t-shirt. He was able to pull it off with no protest. Realizing that it was a bit cool in the bathroom, Aziraphale turned the demon away and hugged him from behind. “Such a good dear,” he whispered.

The angel’s fingers dipped down to Crowley’s jeans, undoing the button and zip. The demon’s breath hitched and he moaned softly as Aziraphale’s thumbs dug into the waistband of his designer pants.

“We’re not doing that now,” Aziraphale said in a sharp tone. “Right now is bath time.”

Crowley harrumphed but allowed the angel to pull off his clothing without further provocation.

Now all that remained was a single sock. The blonde held up Crowley’s foot and snatched it off before continuing his praise.

“Now then,” he said warmly. “Shall we get in the tub? Just a quick scrub and you’ll be done.”

Crowley turned toward him, a resolute frown on his face as he looked toward the water, now bubbling with frothy soap. Aziraphale managed to wrangle him into it, and Crowley sat down in the bath with a surprised grin on his face.

“You see?” the angel said brightly. “Not bad at all, huh?”

Crowley settled into the water, disappearing underneath before resurfacing and shaking his head, wet droplets flying everywhere.

“Goodness!” Azira laughed, wiping a few drops off of his own cheek.

He poured some shampoo on his palm before massaging it through the redhead’s hair, pulling small sighs of pleasure out of the demon. Then he went to work soaping him up and scrubbing away at every inch of his pale skin. Aziraphale hummed to himself as he cleaned the demon to his satisfaction.

By the time he was finished, he found himself with a new problem. Crowley didn’t want to get OUT of the tub. Aziraphale had little choice but to pull the plug, allowing the water to drain which earned him a ‘how very dare you’ scowl from his pet. He made it up to him by pulling a towel out of the warmer and drying him as best he could. The demon especially liked having his damp hair rubbed vigorously.

As soon as he opened the bathroom door, Crowley went running through the house, suddenly full of pent-up energy. The towel Aziraphale had provided was quickly shed, leaving the angel with the ridiculous task of chasing a naked demon from room to room. At last, Crowley crash-landed on the bed in exhaustion. The angel came in after him, huffing slightly and holding the sides of the doorframe.

“Oh my!” he exclaimed. “You really gave me a run for my money there. Oh no, you are not sleeping like that! You’ll catch your death of cold!” He searched his dresser for Crowley’s black silk PJs and slid them on the uncooperative redhead with some effort.

“I shouldn’t even try to get you off the bed, should I?” the blonde muttered.

Crowley looked up with a smile on his face, and glanced over where the paddle was lying on the floor near Aziraphale’s closet. “You wish,” the angel said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe tomorrow if you’re very good.”

The redhead smiled brightly. “You promise?” he asked.

The angel combed through his curls dotingly. “Look who’s so loquacious today! And we’ll see, won’t we?”

They settled into bed and soon both were fast asleep.


	4. Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. Oh my. Aziraphale finds another fun way to enjoy his pet.

Aziraphale knew that leaving his demon to his own devices would only bring trouble, so he decided to apply one of the methods Gabriel had suggested. That morning he prepared for work as usual, but took some extra time with Crowley before departing.

“Now listen,” the angel began. “I’m going to be gone a long while today, and I realize that we need to keep you occupied in my absence. I have special instructions on what to do, so we’re going to try it and see how it works for you. Going by your um...other proclivities I think you’ll like it very much.”

The angel led him to the bedroom. “This part you’ll have no problem with,” he laughed. “Get on the bed please.”

Crowley complied eagerly, watching his angel for further instructions. “Very good,” the blonde complimented. “Now then, stretch out your arms and legs for me, wings away please. I’m going to tie you up.”

Crowley practically glowed with delight as Aziraphale took his time adjusting two pairs of soft elastic straps around his wrists and ankles. With great care, the angel tied each limb to its corresponding post around the bed.

“Marvelous,” the blonde cooed. “Snug as a bug?”

The redhead nodded with his tongue between his teeth.

“Excellent,” the angel said. He moved to pat Crowley’s stomach and caught an unexpected sight just below his hand. The demon’s pants were tented.

“Oh my,” Aziraphale said as his cheeks grew hot. “You really do like this sort of thing, don’t you?”

Crowley licked his lips. “Yeah,” he said brokenly.

“Well then…” the angel stood up and pointed to an electronic device on top of the dresser.

“This camera will allow me to watch you from my phone,” he explained. “If you escape or try to undo your ties, I’ll know. And you…” He tried to lower his voice to sound more menacing. “You won’t like the outcome.”

The redhead rolled his eyes. As if he’d try.

“However,” Aziraphale added, “if you are very good and behave yourself today, I can promise a special reward tonight.” A dark smirk moved over Crowley’s face. “I’ll see you later, dear.”

Aziraphale had barely arrived at work before he had to check the camera feed. He was immensely satisfied to find the demon as he’d left him, though he was writhing around a bit, which was to be expected. He turned on the microphone feature and spoke into his phone.

“Doing alright then?” he asked.

Crowley looked up in the direction of the voice and his face lit up. “Yes, master,” he gasped.

“Wonderful darling, you look perfect. So...pretty tied up like that for me, like a present waiting to be unwrapped,” the angel added. Crowley whimpered and squirmed some more. The angel smiled before setting his phone on his desk and getting to work.

Gabriel stopped by in the late afternoon, asking about Crowley’s progress, and Aziraphale shyly shared the latest developments.

“Light bondage is a great way to begin with unruly pets,” Gabriel affirmed, no trace of shame in his voice. “Bee’s absolutely mad for it, and her appetites have only grown over time.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replied. “About that… I’m a bit nervous about what might come next. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Pets are meant to fulfill all of their owners’ needs,” the archangel reminded him. “But as you’re beginning to learn, they also have their own. From what you’ve told me about Crowley, he sounds fairly adventurous. I think it could be really good for you, Zira. Get you out of your comfort zone, push you toward new, unpredictable experiences.”

“Have you run into that with Beelzebub?” the blonde asked, too curious to worry about decorum. He was really out of his depth here.

Gabriel leaned in as if sharing a secret. “To be honest, if Bee has a line I’ve no idea where it is. I’ve never found it.”

Aziraphale tried to hide the shocked look on his face but couldn’t help the blush that followed. “Well then,” he said, “Learn something new everyday I suppose.”

Gabriel clapped him on the back. “Speaking of, I have a book you should check out.” He snapped his fingers and miracled it on to the blonde’s desk. “I think it’s going to have exactly what you need.”

-

Aziraphale practically devoured the ‘Pet Play,’ manual during his lunch break. While some of the content was quite shocking, the majority was incredibly informative and intriguing. Of note (regarding that morning’s activities) was the importance of reinforcing good behavior, along with a lengthy list of suggested rewards. The angel quickly realized that the extra bottle of wine he’d intended to give Crowley was not appropriate recompense. He needed to step up his game.

Aziraphale checked his phone and made sure to praise his demon every hour, which was a good start. Crowley’s reaction to mere words was encouraging, but he knew his pet enjoyed the paddle even more. There was an entire chapter dedicated to this subject in Gabriel’s book, and he found he could hardly take his mind off of the prospect as closing time approached. He was excited to expand his horizons, especially if it brought Crowley satisfaction.

At last, he was free to leave his office duties behind, and returned home to find the demon exactly where he’d left him.

“Hello beautiful,” Aziraphale purred. Crowley whined in response, obviously wanting to get up and greet his master properly.

The angel sat on the edge of the bed and released Crowley’s right hand, admiring the red-flushed imprint where the band had dug into the skin. He ran his fingers over the demon’s wrist before bringing it to his mouth, sucking at it gently.

Blue eyes traced over the demon’s body as his chest rose and fell in shaky breaths. It didn’t take much to rouse Crowley’s full interest.

Aziraphale moved to worship each released limb with the same ritual, his mouth bestowing gentle nibbles and licks to the demon’s distressed skin. When he finished, he instructed the demon to get on his hands and knees on the bed.

The redhead complied with a smile on his face, and it only grew when he saw Aziraphale pick up the discarded paddle.

“I believe I promised you a treat,” the angel said, slapping the paddle down on his palm to test it out.

Crowley’s eyes went hazy. “Yes, please!” he said, voice grating.

“We’ll start with a ten count,” Aziraphale informed him, gently lifting the demon’s chin with the paddle to look him in the eyes. “God, you are a stunning creature.” His withdrew and let the paddle trail softly down the demon’s back and silk-covered ass, making him shiver in anticipation.

“One,” the angel sang as the paddle struck home. The demon jolted forward before recovering. “Two,” he counted off, delivering a harder strike. Crowley moaned at the contact. “Three,” Aziraphale grunted, putting his back into it. This time Crowley positively bucked at the sensation.

“Doing well?” the angel asked.

“Y-yes,” Crowley agreed. “More, please.”

Aziraphale delivered the next three strikes (“Four, Five, Six!”) in a row before rubbing his hand over the abused cheeks, wondering if bruises would form on the skin. He struck the other side afterwards, just a snap of the wrist really.

“We’re up to seven,” the blonde said, his voice going husky. “I think these can go.” He tugged at the silk bottoms and Crowley nodded approvingly. Slowly the angel pulled them down to the demon’s ankles, inspecting his handiwork.

“What a lovely color,” Aziraphale noted, rubbing at the red-stained cheeks. “Why don’t you spread your legs for me dear?”

Crowley widened his stance until Aziraphale could see his balls hanging between his legs and couldn’t resist the urge to stroke them, fondling the warm weight of them in his hand. The demon stuttered, a low gutteral sound drawn out from deep in his chest. Aziraphale withdrew his hand reluctantly.

With just three more spankings to go, the angel focused on the central part of Crowley’s thighs - one for each side (“Eight. Nine.”), and saved his last for the center of the demon’s ass, harder than all the rest combined. “Ten!” he grunted, panting slightly. Crowley shivered in response.

“That shall do nicely,” Aziraphale commented as he tangled his hand in Crowley’s red curls and pulled.

Crowley strained his head toward Aziraphale, his eyes begging for more. The angel wouldn’t use the paddle again that evening, however. Instead, he directed the demon to turn onto his back. He pointed toward the headboard and Crowley reached up to interlace his fingers tightly on the bars. The silk nightshirt rode up over the demon’s toned stomach, the only stitch of clothing on his body except for the sleep pants bunched around his ankles. Aziraphale took in the sight as Crowley twisted eagerly, his hips gyrating while his long erection bobbed, vulnerable and begging to be taken.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched?” Aziraphale asked sweetly, his eyes practically devouring the redhead.

The demon closed his eyes with a hushed “Yesss!” in reply.

“Full sentences,” Aziraphale directed.

Crowley looked straight at the angel. “Zira,” he said boldy, body writhing. “Please touch me. Anywhere!”

The blonde’s smirk twitched on one side and he licked his lips slowly. He flexed his fingers teasingly before closing over the demon’s full shaft, a few strokes to start him off. A trickle of pre-cum fled the tip, running over the angel’s knuckles. He withdrew his hand and waited.

“P-please!” Crowley begged, grinding his hips in the air.

“Perhaps you’ve had enough for one night,” Aziraphale replied. “Wouldn’t want to overdo it, you know.” Orgasm denial by the book. He stood as if to leave the room.

The shock and dejection on Crowley’s face was apparent. He nearly lost his grip on the bed frame. “N-no, Zira!” his voice cracked.

Aziraphale relented. He couldn’t bear to leave his darling unsatisfied. He turned toward the camera sitting on the dresser. “How about this…” he drew his sentence out before pointing at the device. “I need to get dinner ready, but I’ll watch you on my phone. You will hear and obey my instructions. It’s the only offer you’ll get tonight.”

Crowley squirmed before agreeing. What else could he do?

The angel disappeared, taking his sweet time walking to the kitchen before holding up his phone to check in. The demon was waiting patiently, as he’d been told.

“So good, waiting for my command,” Aziraphale congratulated through the microphone. “And it will be worth it. I want you to keep your left hand where it is, but you may move your right down.”

Crowley complied, resting his right hand on his stomach.

“Perfect,” the angel said. “Now you may begin to stroke yourself, but slowly.”

Crowley practically growled as he took himself in hand, but his pace remained glacial at best.

Aziraphale smiled and began to get ready for dinner. After popping a roast in the oven, he decided to make a starter salad. He washed his hands meticulously before beginning to chop a tomato.

“What do you like to think about when you touch yourself?” Aziraphale asked distractedly.

Crowley eyes blazed into the camera lens. “You,” he stated, tongue playing at the edge of his lower lip.

“Elaborate,” the blonde prompted.

“I wanna see you,” Crowley whined fitfully. “Wanna move my hand faster!”

“No,” Aziraphale said, his voice final. “Answer the question.”

The redhead’s chin moved up toward the ceiling. “I think about you fucking me,” he gasped.

The angel finished with the tomato and moved on to shredding the lettuce. He glanced down at the phone.

“You may move your hand faster,” Aziraphale allowed. “And tell me more.”

Crowley let his hand mimic a more natural rhythm, drawing out an excited groan. “Oh god,” he cursed. “I think about seeing your cock for the first time. Stuffing it in my mouth til I gag. I think about you flipping me around and having me on the counter, on every surface in the house, me spread open and you hammering into my-”

“Shh,” Aziraphale said gently. “Slow down. I’m going to do all of those things and more, in time. If you’re good.” He mixed the lettuce and tomatoes in the bowl before crumbling a generous amount of feta on top.

Crowley groaned in frustration and slowed himself as instructed, his hand slipping a few times as he tried to resist the urge to stroke harder.

“Look at you,” the angel admired. He poured equal measures of lemon juice and olive oil along with some spices into a jar before covering it, shaking it. “You’re practically falling apart for me.”

“Oh fuck,” Crowley replied eagerly. “Are you touching yourself?”

Aziraphale chuckled as he set the dressing down. “I bet you’d like that.”

“Yes,” Crowley hissed. “I would!”

“Faster,” Aziraphale commanded. “Keep going until you cum. I’ve got my eyes on you darling. You’re the only thing in the world.” The angel dipped his finger in the homemade dressing and tasted it, the perfect blend of zest and spice. His gaze was locked on the redhead as he continued to whisper soft encouragement. “Yes, sweetheart. You’re almost there. Doesn’t that feel good my dear?”

Crowley began to crumble, a drawn-out cry escaping his mouth as he came, hips thrusting into the air. Crowley’s writhing eventually settled down and he lay still, bathing in the effective paralysis of his orgasm.

Finally, a calm voice spoke to him through the microphone.

“Clean yourself up now,” the angel said gently. “You may use a miracle if you wish.”

Crowley held up the hand that had been clenching the headboard, barely able to snap his fingers to rid himself of the mess he’d created. He yanked up his pajama pants with one hand and spread out over the bed in perfect exhaustion. Aziraphale watched him from the kitchen as he scooped his salad into a bowl, taking the first delicious bite with relish.

“Well done darling,” he whispered. “You were perfect.”

Aziraphale smiled, congratulating himself silently. He could get used to this, indeed.


	5. Tags

The next day went much like the previous one. Crowley was tied up while Aziraphale worked, and was released when the angel arrived home. This time however, Crowley did not receive a reward, which left him rather sullen. He didn’t know that the angel was trying to keep him from getting spoiled. He moped around the house while Aziraphale quietly read a book before the fireplace.

Crowley tried to distract himself with his snake toy, but it didn’t please him one bit. Eventually he came to lie down at the angel’s feet, batting absently at his shoes.

“Not everything can always be about you darling,” Aziraphale murmured, too wrapped up in his novel to pay the demon any mind. The redhead scowled and slunk out of the room. He roamed around until he found an open window and sat down next to, enjoying the nice breeze and various scents drifting by. It wasn’t long until he saw something that captured his interest outside, something...shiny.

Crowley climbed out of the window without a second thought and was immediately enraptured by his newfound freedom. There was so much to do! So much to explore! He ran around in the front yard for a few moments before remembering his quarry. The shiny thing was rustling on the edge of the grass, more tempting than a siren’s call. The redhead stalked toward it, feigning disinterest as he went. He stood with his back to it, pretending to study the brightly colored shutters of his and Aziraphale’s house. Then all at once, he turned, leaping on his prey - but it skittered away at the last second.

A breeze had picked it up, carrying it into the neighbor’s yard. Crowley ran after it, determined to catch his prize. The wind continued to blow, taking the redhead farther and farther away from home, but he took little notice. He was on the hunt now! Eventually the demon caught up (it turned out to be a discarded piece of ribbon from a gift) and he couldn’t resist the instinct to fall onto his back, batting at it until he was satisfied it was dead. When it offered no more entertainment, Crowley let it go and stared up at the sky. Bright puffy clouds were changing colors along with the sky as the sun set. The weather was so peaceful and beautiful.

When he finally gained the presence of mind to get up, Crowley realized he was terribly lost. He’d taken so many twists and turns to arrive at his present location, and couldn’t remember the way back no matter how hard he tried. The temperate day was quickly turning cooler, and Crowley shivered as he paced up and down the street. He started to deeply regret his inclination to climb out of the window, and worriedly hoped that his master was already looking for him.

A car driving by slowed down and a window lowered. The driver poked her head out and stared at him.

“Are you lost sweetheart?” she asked kindly.

Crowley frowned and backed away, uncertain if she was friend or foe. The woman parked her car and got out, trying to beckon him closer.

“Come here darling, I won’t hurt you,” she promised. When Crowley made no movement toward her the woman reached into her car, drawing out a half-eaten ham sandwich.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “Here’s some nice juicy ham for you! Mmm...forbidden meat!” She made a show of pretended to nibble on it before holding it out.

Crowley sniffed the air and took a step forward. It did smell tempting. He approached very slowly, even feinting away one time when she got too close for comfort. He did come around at last though, and she examined his collar as he munched away on the offering. Noting the contact number, the woman dialed Aziraphale and was relieved to hear he lived only blocks away.

Crowley was just polishing off the sandwich when Aziraphale came running down the street, his eyes wide with panic. “Crowley, darling!” he cried as he drew near.

The demon swiveled his head and ran toward his owner in delight while the woman watched on with tears in her eyes.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” Aziraphale said between hiccups. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him!”

The stranger just smiled at them and waved them off. “I’m happy I could help!” she said before driving away.

Aziraphale was still sniffling as he lifted the demon into his arms, intent on carrying him the whole way home. Crowley didn’t protest but wrapped his legs around the angel’s waist, his chin tucked over the blonde’s shoulder as he breathed in his scent. When they arrived at the house Aziraphale finally let him down, shutting the door soundly behind them.

“Why on earth did you run off like that?” the angel asked, petting Crowley’s beautiful red curls like he might vanish again at any moment.

“I was chasing the shiny,” Crowley explained, fingers gesticulating wildly. “And then I went too far and I got lost and then I...then I…”

The demon burst into tears, not realizing how scared he’d actually been. Then he and Aziraphale were sobbing like idiots and holding each other tightly.

“M sorry,” the demon mumbled. “I’ll never leave home without you again. Promise!”

“You’d better not!” the angel laughed. “Oh, gracious. Good thing you had your tags.”

Aziraphale dragged the demon along behind him, tucking him up on the large couch and breathing into his hair. He kissed the crown of his head and hummed. “Never leave me again,” he said brokenly.

Crowley nodded, raising his eyes in an unspoken promise to his angel. Aziraphale looked him over, satisfied that no permanent damage was done, and then out of nowhere, kissed the redhead soundly on the lips.

Crowley’s mouth hung open, unsure how to process the action. Pets were coddled, certainly. They were punished, used, adored, and even fucked, admittedly. But kissed? Like an equal? It just wasn’t done. If Aziraphale knew anything about the taboo he certainly didn’t show it, instead using an idle finger to trail down the demon’s soft cheek.

“Sweet, sweet darling,” he continued to coo.

Crowley licked his lips, savoring the taste of his master. It was dizzying. Still a little baffled, the redhead cuddled into Aziraphale’s side. He couldn’t imagine belonging to anyone else. He felt like the luckiest being in the universe to have ended up with his angel. Not only would he never stray from his side again, but he internally vowed to keep his master safe no matter the cost. He breathed out a heavy sigh and snuggled closer. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.


	6. Treats

Crowley and Aziraphale fell into an easy pattern throughout the week, but the weekends were made for spontaneity. The angel loved to surprise his demon, to offer little gifts or take him to new exciting locales like the botanical garden. He doted on Crowley like nothing else, especially since their near-separation. He never wanted to take a single second for granted, and so put together a very special evening for the two of them one Saturday night.

After making a delicious steak dinner, (served with an ice-cold glass of milk for Crowley per Ex. 34:26) Aziraphale laid his sated demon down and began to perform a luxurious massage for him. He’d purchased a frangipani-scented oil and even lit candles in the bedroom to create a relaxing atmosphere.

“I’m going to absolutely spoil you tonight,” the angel said as he smoothed out the tight muscles in Crowely’s back. “You’ve been so well-behaved the last few weeks, I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

The demon hummed happily under Aziraphale’s ministrations and sighed as his hands worked lower, just above the waistline of his skintight jeans.

“You may think I’ve been holding out,” the angel continued, “but I’ve actually just been saving up the most special treat just for you.” He’d been particularly studious concerning his Pet Play manual, and was very excited to try something new.

His hands shifted under the demon’s belly to undo the clasp on his jeans, and he pulled them and his pants off and out of his way.

“What is it?” Crowley asked, his legs wagging up and down.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Aziraphale promised. “But first we’re going to focus on your massage.”

His hands cupped each of the demon’s pert cheeks, rubbing into the tendons lovingly before moving down to work on his upper thighs. He couldn’t resist sliding an oiled hand between them as he worked, enjoying the soft breath it elicited from the redhead.

“Such a skinny little strip of a thing, you are,” the angel cooed. One well-oiled finger trailed up and traced the cleft of his ass. Crowley whined when it moved away, Aziraphale’s attention moving back to his legs instead.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” the blonde chuckled. He worked back up his body until he reached Crowley’s biceps, using his thumbs to draw firm lines over the muscles. It seemed nearly an hour passed before the angel spoke again, this time his voice growing subtly deeper.

“Now then my dear,” Aziraphale breathed out. “Why don’t you tell me where you’d like for me to touch you?”

“Ohhh,” Crowley sighed. “I want your fingers in me, Zira. Please.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” the angel said appreciatively. He traded out the oil for a bottle of lubricant, squeezing a generous helping on the demon’s backside. Crowley shivered at the cold sensation and groaned when Aziraphale’s fingers dipped into his cleft, the barest whisper of a touch over the puckered skin hiding within.

The angel only allowed the slightest insertion of his pointer finger, always backing out to circle the rim lovingly before dipping back in. His tediously slow progress eventually drew a frustrated growl from his demon, but Aziraphale merely laughed.

“So impatient, my pet,” the angel commented. “But I suppose this is supposed to be your first treat.” With that said, he shifted to move his pointer finger all the way inside, encountering just enough resistance to make it a little rough, the way he knew his demon would like.

Crowley moaned deeply, sounding his approval. “More Zira, please!”

Aziraphale removed his finger and inserted the middle in its place, pushing deeper inside. When he took it out, he began to alternate the first and second fingers, building up a rhythm. “How’s that feel?” he asked.

“Mm, your fingers are so thick,” Crowley shuddered as he spoke. His hips were grinding against the bed, seeking friction.

“Oh you needy little thing,” the angel scolded warmly. He pushed both fingers in at once and curved them gently, reaching the spot Crowley didn’t even know he’d been missing. The redhead spasmed with pleasure, now openly rutting against the bed.

“Fuck yes!” he cried out. “Keep going! So close, so close-”

Aziraphale withdrew his hand and smirked when Crowley’s head swiveled back toward him, desperate for release. “Are you ready for your second treat?” the angel asked.

Crowley nodded, half out of his mind with need.

“Wrists,” the blonde commanded.

Crowley sat up immediately and presented his hands to his master. They were summarily wrapped in one of the black restraints Aziraphale used throughout the week. The demon followed the blonde’s eyes as they tracked up to the ceiling where a silver ring had been newly installed.

Aziraphale measured a length of rope through the ring and attached it to the restraints, pulling gently. Crowley’s arms extended up to their full length until he was kneeling on the bed. He strained forward, erection red and wretched as it wiggled in the air. Only when he began to beg for it did the angel slip his fingers into the demon’s neglected hole, and before the redhead could take his first gasp, Aziraphale sank his mouth over his aching cock.

The sounds Crowley made could have shaken the foundation of the home. He writhed like he was on fire, his eyes locked on the angel’s heavenly lips encased around him. He thrust forward, unable to keep his body in check and instead followed its every whim, and Aziraphale was only too happy to oblige him, opening his throat to let the demon fuck his mouth as he wished.

Crowley wanted desperately to make it last, but it was too good, too hot, too fucking everything. His toes curled and he felt his balls drawing up, the first telltale sign of his orgasm beginning as it pumped deliciously through his groin. Crowley cried out and shot his release straight down the angel’s throat, slipping as his upper body began to crumple even as his lower body continued to pump uselessly. Only when he was completely sated did Aziraphale retract, drawing his fingers out of the demon with a delicious squelch.

Crowley slumped bonelessly, held only by the wrists as if he’d been beaten relentlessly rather than pleasured nearly to death. Aziraphale watched him for a while, savoring the results of his work before finally untying the bonds. The redhead dissipated into a pile of spent muscles and limbs, hardly able to open his eyes as the angel settled on the bed next to him.

“You’re so perfect for me, Crowley,” the blonde whispered against his sweaty forehead. His fingers stroked through the sweat-soaked curls and drew them away from the demon’s face. Amber eyes met his gaze and Crowley gave a tiny whimper in response.

“So beautiful,” Aziraphale went on. “So adored.” He bent his mouth toward the demon’s as he lifted up his chin and delicately kissed him. Crowley didn’t know what came over him when he found himself kissing his master back despite himself. It was wrong. It was so fucking wrong. He couldn’t stifle the groan in the back of his throat when he felt Aziraphale nibble on his lower lip. It was strange and disorienting and most of all, somehow better than the immense sexual pleasure he’d just felt.

Pets and masters weren’t supposed to cross certain lines. Bonding on a deep emotional level was discouraged. Moving beyond their prescribed roles was a punishable offense. And falling in love? That could lead to banishment or worse. In the moment though, all that mattered was the treasured warmth of the angel’s mouth on his, lips moving in concert, something growing between them that felt more like a blaze than a spark.


	7. Blue Ribbon

Crowley was bouncing around in circles while waiting for Gabriel to answer the door. Aziraphale laughed at his antics. The redhead always got so excited when he was about to see Bee. Gabriel had hardly opened the door when said demon came running out and the game was on. Their masters watched the pair tumble into the grass, mutual excitement barring any sense of reasonable decorum.

“Look at these cuties!” Gabriel chuckled. “Come in Aziraphale! Sandalphon just got here a moment ago.”

The blonde followed him in with a forced smile on his face. He didn’t really care for the uptight angel and desperately wished he’d chosen another day to drop by, but it was too late now. He stopped just at the threshold, calling for Bee and Crowley to join them inside.

The two pets raced into the living room and stopped dead on their heels when they glimpsed Sandalphon and his own prized little darling, Dagon. The latter was dressed all in pink, and even wore a ridiculous pair of pink satin shoes with fluffy pink poufs on them.

“Shit,” Bee whispered to Crowley. “I should have warned you they were here.”

The masters had just taken a seat but Sandalphon rose at the sight of Crowley, a purring sound eliciting from his throat.

“Ohhh,” he groaned. “Who is this? He can’t belong to you, Aziraphale.”

The redhead narrowed his eyes at the balding man, and even bared his teeth a little.

“And feisty too!” Sandalphon grinned. He came close enough to whisper in Crowley’s ear. “Bet I could put you to heel quickly enough.”

Crowley shuddered and Bee shot him a disgusted look.

Dagon stood from the pink silk cushion Sandalphon had set on the floor for her, as if the carpet wasn’t good enough. Her eyes were so icy blue they were nearly white. She walked around Crowley, looking him over while the masters fell into conversation.

“Fair coat,” she said softly, observing his hair. “But you’re no blue ribbon.”

“Blue ribbon?” Crowley repeated. He looked to Bee for clarification.

“A stupid bow the more vapid pets fight over,” they supplied. “Dagon has hundreds, apparently.”

Crowley smirked at his friend and knocked their shoulder playfully.

“A mark of distinction,” Dagon corrected. “Not that you’d be familiar with that, Beezle-bub. How you ended up with Gabriel I’ll never understand. He deserves better.”

Crowley took a menacing step forward but was distracted by his master’s voice.

“I’ve never thought about it,” Aziraphale was saying. “I don’t go in much for competition.”

Sandalphon’s smile revealed way too many large teeth. “You’d keep a specimen like Crowley hidden away? It should be a crime!”

Dagon sneered and cornered Crowley. “He’s being overly generous. I’d beat you easily and he knows it. He just wants to humiliate your master.”

Crowley growled at the remark, drawing Gabriel’s attention.

“Whoah, hey, looks like these guys are getting a bit restless. Outside?” the archangel suggested.

The three pets ran to the backdoor immediately (drama temporarily forgotten) and Gabriel followed. “Run off some of that energy,” he suggested. “And Bee? Keep these two in line, okay?”

Bee nodded diligently and took off after the others when he opened the sliding door. Crowley was already rounding on Dagon.

“Take it back!” he demanded.

The prize-winning demon rolled her eyes. “You’re only offended because you know it’s true,” she challenged.

“Shut up Dagon!” Bee jumped in. “You act like walking around an arena and doing a few tricks is an accomplishment.”

“You’ve never even seen a show, have you?” Dagon mocked. “It’s much more intricate and difficult. Demons even perform miracles there.”

“What kind of miracles?” Crowley asked, intrigued despite himself.

“Ones that show off your talents, naturally,” she replied mysteriously. “There’s poise of course, and the pedigree check. But after that is the talent portion, and that’s where I shine.”

“Show us then,” Bee dared.

Dagon huffed in annoyance. “I would never. Not outside of the arena or without Sandalphon’s permission. What do you think I am, a common cur like you?”

Bee glanced at Crowley, who looked back at them with a wicked grin on his face. As soon as Dagon turned her back, Crowley snapped his fingers and a small spark ignited one of the fluffy poufs on her shoe. Immediately Dagon screamed and kicked the offending footwear across the yard.

The masters came running out of the house shortly afterwards, and Dagon made a big show of crying into Sandalphon’s arms.

Gabriel stared around the scene in disbelief. “What the Heaven happened?”

Crowley hung his head and simultaneously turned away from the masters, drawing Aziraphale’s attention.

“Crowley?” the blonde asked slowly, his eyes landing on the well-done shoe. “Crowley...did you do this?”

The redhead backed up a few steps without looking up.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped in shock. “How could you?”

The demon shrank in on himself, consumed with guilt.

“Well,” the blonde started, “I can’t apologize enough for Crowley’s behavior, Sandalphon. Please send me the bill for Dagon’s shoes. I believe I’d better take Crowley home immediately.”

Sandalphon nodded as he continued to coddle Dagon. “Let me know if you need any advice on retraining, Aziraphale. Or better yet, drop that creature with me for a few days. I’ll be sure to teach him appropriate manners!”

“Yes, well,” Aziraphale huffed. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary. Come Crowley.”

The demon ran after his master, following him through the house and out the front door. Once outside, Crowley began to grow anxious. Aziraphale wouldn’t look at him, let alone speak to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sandalphon’s words, and his master’s chilling response. Did Aziraphale really mean what he’d said? Would he hand him over to Sandalphon for retraining? Or worse...give him away permanently? They arrived at home without exchanging a single word, causing Crowley’s blood pressure to skyrocket.

Aziraphale went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on while Crowley practically climbed the walls in the living room. He’d worked himself into such a state that by the time the angel walked in, he was little more than a catatonic lump on the floor.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out, sloshing his mug as he dropped it down on the closest side table. He went to his knees next to the redhead, who began to hyperventilate.

Aziraphale gathered the shaking demon into his arms. “Breathe Crowley,” he said steadily. “Look at me and breathe. In...and out. In...and out. That’s better darling.”

Crowley followed his instructions, eventually finding his voice and managing to get out partial words between hiccuping gasps. “You’re going to...give me away!” he squeaked.

“I’m not!” Aziraphale replied sternly. “Look at me Crowley.”

The demon obeyed, beady eyes meeting solemn blue ones. He willed himself to start calming down. To trust his master, the only thing that grounded him in the world.

“I could never part from you,” the angel went on. “I am...disappointed in your actions, you know better than to have used your powers without permission, but nothing you could ever do would make me abandon you my dear one. Don’t you know that?”

Crowley tried to stave off the intermittent tremors in his body. The fear of losing the angel was still too close. “Zira!” he moaned piteously, burying his face in the blonde’s neck. “I’m so sorry! All I ever do is cause trouble!”

Aziraphale laughed, and it surprised the demon enough to shake him out of his agony. He looked up at the angel in complete shock.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. “Do you really think when I picked you out amongst all the others that I was looking for docility? I knew exactly what I was getting into when I chose you. You’re a wily little thing with a penchant for mischief, and that’s precisely what I adore about you.”

“You’re...you’re not mad?” Crowley scoffed.

Aziraphale tried to hide the grin growing on his face. “I just...I can’t imagine what that nasty creature said to set you off, but it must have been worth it to torch her shoe. If she’s anything like Sandalphon I only wish you could have set both their loafers on fire. For your trouble, of course...might as well toast the lot.”

“Zira!” Crowley’s eyes were wider than saucers.

The blonde sobered himself even as he ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Of course, I can’t really condone such behavior. You know as well as I do that there are consequences for using your powers outside of my command. If Sandalphon had half a mind he could take us both to task on the matter.”

“You don’t think he will?” Crowley asked hopefully.

“No,” Aziraphale replied, his tone darkening. “I’m afraid he’s got something else in mind entirely. I couldn’t help but see the enmity in his eyes when he first saw you. He even offered to buy you once you were out of earshot. And before you ask, no, I would never entertain the thought.”

Crowley’s fingers dug anxiously into Aziraphale’s jacket. “I don’t like him Zira. Don’t trust him.”

The angel leaned down and kissed the demon’s forehead tenderly. “You’ve nothing to fear from him my darling. I promise you that. Now then, let’s get some supper shall we? It’s been a long day.”


	8. Special Invitation

After a long work week, Aziraphale was sleeping in with Crowley on the luxurious four poster bed. They were tangled up in the sheets and each other, the demon’s warm breath ghosting over the angel’s chest. It was divine. And of course, fleeting.

The doorbell rang.

Aziraphale didn’t often have visitors, and none since he’d brought Crowley home. As such, the sound might as well have been the gong of an alarm bell to the demon’s ears. He jumped a foot in the air as he scrambled from the bed, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“What is that?” he shouted, running back and forth in the bedroom. The angel fell out of bed in the sheer panic of the moment.

“We’re being invaded!” the demon cried. “Intruders! Murderers! We’re all going to die!”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale managed, rubbing his elbow where it had hit the ground. “Calm down!”

The bell chimed again, throwing the redhead into absolute hysterics. “It’s the apocalypse!” he shrieked. “Fire! Zombies! Helllllp!!!!”

Aziraphale managed to get through Crowley and to the front door, slinging it open as the demon latched onto his leg. “No Zira!” he screamed, and then stared up perplexed at the man at the door.

The man waved amiably before handing a box to Aziraphale. “Have a good day!” he said cheerfully.

The angel glanced down at Crowley with a knowing look on his face. For his part, the demon turned quite red and giggled nervously. “He um...didn’t look particularly dangerous,” he admitted.

“Can I have my leg back?” Aziraphale asked. “Or are you planning a second assault on the mailman?”

“Ah,” Crowley replied, loosening his hold. “I um...suppose not.”

The angel moved toward the kitchen while Crowley opened the mailslot suspiciously. “Still...can never be too careful,” he hissed to himself as he watched the man walk off. He’d have to keep an eye on that one.

Remembering his master, Crowley slipped on the tile as he scrambled to go see what he was doing in the kitchen. What was in that box? Something for him? His heart was hopeful as he found the angel tearing off the tape wrapped around it.

Crowley saw the angel’s face before anything else, and he didn’t look happy.

“What is it?” the demon asked nervously.

Aziraphale frowned as he held up a lavish piece of paper. “We’ve been selected for the invitational,” he said dryly. “Care of the Royal British Pet Society.”

Crowley blinked. “And that is…?”

“It’s one of the shows Sandalphon enters each year. The big one. THE pet show.” The angel set the invite down and rooted through the box containing unlimited RBPS swag. He chucked a few coasters out and stared at a hand-knit tea cozy in utter confusion.

The redhead watched his master for a moment before approaching with his hands on his hips. “So are you going to enter me?”

Aziraphale snorted. “Not likely.”

Crowley blanched, surprising himself in how offended he was. “But you said I was pretty!” he snarled, stamping his foot on the floor.

“Oh,” the blonde looked up, totally confused and horrified. “Oh, Crowley, I didn’t mean you weren’t good enough! You’d blow away the competition, I’m sure. I just hate these kind of things. It’s all bows and bobs and prancing around-”

“Maybe I like bows! And bobs! And...and prancing!” the demon was becoming irate, but seemed less convinced about that last item.

“My dear!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Is it really that important to you? This is something you want to do?”

The redhead felt his ire cooling in the face of actually getting what he was fighting for. “I dunno,” he replied. “But it would feel good to beat Dagon and Sandalphon. Just to know I could.”

“Who cares about them?” the angel said soothingly. He rounded the kitchen island and drew Crowley into his arms. “As far as I’m concerned there is no competition where you’re concerned. I wouldn’t trade you for all the pets in the world.”

The demon tried to will his pouty lower lip away as he looked into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Wouldn’t it make you proud of me though?” he asked. “If I won the blue ribbon?”

The angel nearly snickered until he realized Crowley was asking him earnestly. “Well I...suppose. But I’m proud of you without it my dear. I hope you know that.”

“I just…” the redhead broke off, creating some distance between them as he searched for the right words. “I feel like you do so much for me, Zira. You take care of me and make me happy. And what have I done for you?”

“Oh my darling,” Aziraphale tilted Crowley’s chin up. “Absolutely everything. I can’t tell you how much better my life has been with you in it. I love you Crowley.”

The demon’s eyes went wide and he found himself unable to blink. “Zira…”

The angel closed the space between them and locked Crowley into a sincere kiss. He alternated between the demon’s upper and lower lips as his fingers curled tightly in the red curls of Crowley’s hair. The demon nearly choked when he felt the soft thrust of Aziraphale’s tongue slip past his lips, he’d never felt anything so divine. Unable to contain himself though he knew better, Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel and deepened the kiss, allowing the angel to lift him by the hips and settle him on the kitchen island. Aziraphale pressed between his legs, his erection rubbing against the demon’s upper thigh.

“Mmm I want to fuck you right here,” the angel whispered.

Crowley slipped off the counter and began to turn around.

“No,” Aziraphale said, catching his wrist. “Not like that. Facing me. I want to see you.”

“Zira…” Crowley gasped. “Zira, we can’t!”

“Can’t what?” the angel said darkly. His hands were roaming over the demon’s hips possessively.

“You know what!” Crowley hissed, his voice lowering as if someone would overhear. “You’re treating me like a...like a mate when we both know I’m a pet and nothing more!”

“I can’t pretend to feel differently,” Aziraphale objected. “I won’t.” He reached up for Crowley’s cheek but the demon retreated into the corner.

“And what happens if you are Paired?” Crowley shot back. He was beginning to shake. “They’ll send me away and you know it!”

Aziraphale stared at the floor moodily. “I won’t allow that.”

“You don’t get to make that choice!” the demon all but shouted. Every instinct inside of him said he was getting way out of line but the angel had broken the boundaries first. They were in uncharted territory now.

Crowley took in a deep, ragged breath as he tried to control himself. He needed Aziraphale to reassert dominance to reign him in, but the angel was just as confused as he was.

“I can’t…” the demon attempted as he bumped into the counter behind him and scrambled for purchase as if he’d gone blind. “I don’t… Zira, please!”

The angel caught him up in his arms and held him tightly. “Shh, Crowley,” he soothed. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. There’s a good boy. Relax for me now, darling.”

Crowley’s breathing began to slow. His master’s command went straight to his brain and he slumped in relief.

Aziraphale knew he’d gone too far, but another part of him didn’t care. He wanted Crowley in a different way than he was supposed to. It wasn’t fair to keep dragging his pet through his own complex feelings though, not until he had a plan to guide them through. If Aziraphale wanted to pursue something deeper with the demon, he’d need to confide in someone who had dealt with the same issue. He stared up at the ceiling, realizing he knew exactly who to talk to.


	9. Icarus

It was a beautiful day at the pet park. Masters talked amongst themselves while their pets intermingled freely in the large field. Beelzebub came running up to Crowley as soon as they arrived with Gabriel, their large black wings unfolded and aching to go.

“Can we fly, master?” they begged, tugging on his sleeve.

Crowley’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he drew down his sunglasses. He hadn’t known they were allowed to do that. He looked up into the sky and was amazed to see several demons chasing each other between the clouds. They looked incredibly happy.

“Aziraphale?” Gabriel asked.

“Fine with me,” the angel consented. “As long as Beez keeps an eye on Crowley.”

Beez saluted the masters before pulling Crowley along with them. In no time, they were springing into the sky. Gabriel watched them for a few minutes before settling on to the bench next to Aziraphale.

“Your message sounded serious,” the archangel said. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“I do,” the blonde admitted, “but it’s a delicate subject. I need to know you won’t repeat anything I say.”

“You have my word,” Gabriel replied, concern apparent in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s just…” Aziraphale fumbled for the right words. “Have you heard of any instances where masters have grown a little too attached to their pets?”

Gabriel’s frown was severe. He leaned back on the bench, breaking eye contact. “I have. There are rumors and stories...cautionary tales. Nothing terribly recent, however.”

“Ah,” the blonde continued. “I’m afraid I hadn’t really looked into the subject before adopting, so I’m not sure what guidelines are suggested to um...to prevent it...or the consequences just in case-”

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said softly. “Say no more.” He sighed deeply and crossed his arms. “It’s been over a millennium and we still haven’t figured everything out. I was there, you know. During the Resolution.”

“Oh,” the angel replied. He’d been caught up in a job concerning paperwork at the time, thankfully.

“The idea of the breeding program was initially just to root out the worst traits of the demons to end the war,” Gabriel went on. “We thought we could neutralize them as a threat. But some breeders became more creative. They started looking for specific skills and behaviors, streamlining the demons for different jobs and abilities to help the angelic force. Of course, we know now that this only made the demons more and more subordinate. It’s unlikely any of them can survive on their own anymore.”

Aziraphale nodded.

“Demons are biological hardwired to follow strong leaders,” Gabriel explained. “And we owe them that, at least, since we created the problem. We have a greater responsibility to protect them, even from themselves.”

“But some of them...are different,” Aziraphale hedged.

Gabriel chuckled. “As are some angels. That doesn’t mean you could ever have an equal relationship with them though. That’s what Pairing is for.” The archangel sounded less convinced of this statement as fact than indoctrination.

“I don’t even have the slightest inclination,” the blonde grumbled. “I’ve never been particularly attracted to other angels. They’re so...predictable.”

Gabriel smiled and stared down at his lap. “I know what you mean. I felt lucky enough to find a real friendship with you.”

Aziraphale fixed his friend with a knowing look. “I’m different. Just like you are different. Surely there must be others like us...angels that share a deeper bond with their pets in secret.”

“There’s an underground for everything,” Gabriel agreed. “But you need to be careful. There are angels around us that take notice. Sandalphon, for instance. He asked an inordinate amount of questions about you and Crowley after you left my house.”

The blonde shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “We received an invitation from the RBPS. I’m pretty sure it was his doing.”

“It’s definitely a test,” the archangel muttered. “You know what the top prize is?”

“A blue ribbon,” Aziraphale answered.

“Yes,” Gabriel replied. “And a voucher. The winner gets to select any pet from the ranks as their own. Sandalphon has had that honor the last three seasons.”

“I would never risk losing Crowley!” the blonde said angrily. “And to exhibit him like some mindless hunk of meat...the thought makes me sick!”

Gabriel raised one elegant eyebrow. “You see your dilemma. I guarantee Sandalphon has his suspicions, and this is his way of flushing you out.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Aziraphale fretted. “Lots of masters abstain from the competition. That’s hardly proof.”

“You forget your lack of direct punishment with Crowley when he immolated Dagon’s shoe,” Gabriel reminded him. “I told Sandalphon that you were still a new owner, trying to cover for you as inexperienced. More mistakes like that and you’re bound to end up on someone’s radar.”

Aziraphale paled, his eyes drifting to the sky. He could see Beelzebub and Crowley winging circles around each other. Crowley was rising higher and higher, until he was just a dot in the atmosphere.

“He’s dreadfully high up there,” the blonde objected. “Won’t Beez bring him down?”

Gabriel raised a hand to shelter his eyes. “There should be nets at the top,” he soothed his friend. “Besides, if he ventures too far the air is thinner. He won’t like that and should come down on his own.”

“Or he’ll pass out!” Aziraphale nearly shouted. “And plummet to the earth like a meteor! I should have never let him go up there!”

The archangel looked around nervously. Aziraphale was drawing attention. “Please calm down!” he whispered hotly. “This is exactly what I was just trying to warn you about-”

“Oh!” the blonde gasped. A figure was dropping from the sky like a lead balloon. Aziraphale could make out the limp body of his pet, red hair streaming like a flame. “Crowley!” he screamed.

A small crowd of concerned masters gathered near to watch the scene. Crowley was falling at an unprecedented rate. From the side, a black whirr was moving even faster.

“Beez!” Gabriel shouted, unable to contain himself. He watched in horror as they shot toward the ground, racing the unconscious redhead toward the earth. Crowley was just seconds from impact when the raven-haired demon swooped under him, and the pair went tumbling along the grass for several feet.

Both Gabriel and Aziraphale ran toward them in a panic. When they arrived, Beez was dusting off their coat while Crowley sat up in a haze. Gabriel all but tackled his demon, squeezing the life out of them while kissing the side of their face. For Aziraphale’s part, he merely broke down into tears and cried over Crowley’s hands. From the side, the growing crowd began to murmur to one another.

It was Beez who had the presence of mind to end the scene before it became dangerous. With a flourish, they pushed Aziraphale and Crowley toward the street and took Gabriel by the arm.

“He’s been a mess since his Paired One died,” Beez said as an aside to the crowd. A ripple of understanding went through several bystander’s faces. “The other one’s a therapy pet for that deeply disturbed man,” they added. “Sorry to cause any alarm.”

The gathered masters began to part in light of that information. They eagerly went back to their own activities, already disinterested in the recent drama. That’s how angels were, for the most part.

Gabriel let Beez guide him to their friends who were waiting on the edge of the park.

“That was close,” the archangel began, but Beez cut him off.

“You stupid fucking idiot!” they snapped. “I’m taking you home right now to think about what you’ve done! I’ll see you guys later,” they added to Aziraphale and Crowley.

The remaining angel and demon looked at each other in alarm.

“Beez really runs the show, huh?” Crowley asked quietly.

The blonde nodded, his eyes wide. “They do. Feel free to step up as well if I ever do anything that heedless again.” Aziraphale tried to smile, but his racing heartbeat wouldn’t allow for it. His eyes remained glued to the ground all the way home.


	10. Our Side

Aziraphale was absolutely beside himself. He sat heavily into his armchair in the living room and stared at the fire as if it held the answers. He was bereft for almost losing Crowley in the accident. And he was angry at himself for nearly getting them both caught out. And most of all, he felt alone because he didn’t think it was right to talk to the one person he wanted to the most. One pet, he corrected mentally.

The demon could tell something was wrong. He settled at his master’s feet with his chin on Aziraphale’s knee. His doe eyes shot nervously to the angel whenever he shifted in his seat.

“Won’t you talk to me?” Crowley asked in a small voice. “I know I made a mistake.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” the blonde replied, but he didn’t offer anything else.

Crowley sighed and racked his brain for a solution to make Aziraphale feel better. He knew that there must be something he could do, and wasn’t that what pets were for? He tilted his head and nuzzled under Aziraphale’s hand.

“Crowley…” the angel protested, but he scratched absentmindedly at the red hair anyways.

“Zira?” the demon attempted, one hand coming to rest on his knee and squeezing. “I’ve been thinking about our argument.”

“Hm,” Aziraphale intoned. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I do,” Crowley pressed on. “I know you want more from me and I want to give it to you.”

“You’re wired to please,” the angel explained, “That’s all.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes and drew away from Aziraphale’s touch. “I’m more than a bundle of pre-bred instincts,” he said hotly.

Aziraphale looked down at his pet, meeting his eyes. After everything he’d talked about with Gabriel, he wasn’t even sure anymore.

“You think all I can do is follow commands, but I could be free if I wanted to.”

The blonde blinked.

Crowley responded as if Aziraphale had just adamantly disagreed with him. “I could!” he said again, jumping to his feet. “I realized it when I was flying today… So I soared. Higher and higher! I thought...I might fly to the stars if I wanted to.” His wings snapped to attention behind him.

“You are very brave, my dear one,” the angel agreed. “But we’ve seen what happens when you’re left to your own devices.”

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be hard!” Crowley snapped. “Today I fell...and it was terrifying. I started to regain consciousness on my way down but I had no control over my body. I was helpless! But in that moment I knew I didn’t want to be like that anymore. I want to make my own choices. I want the freedom to mess up and learn from my mistakes. And you’re the only one who will ever give me that chance.”

Crowley could feel the biological resistance to his own words. His body and psyche were screaming at him to back down. To follow and obey. He wasn’t going to. He’d already fallen once, and he was no longer afraid of the consequences.

Aziraphale held up a weary hand. “Darling I want you to be happy no matter what you do, but what you’re talking about is dangerous. Perhaps I was foolish to introduce these ideas to you.”

“Oh!” Crowley retorted sarcastically. “Like when you told me you loved me? You can’t run away now Zira, not when I’m only catching up to you.”

“I’ve led you astray,” the angel was saying to himself. “This is all my fault. What you’re talking about can never be! We’re on opposite sides!”

Crowley scowled and the look of outrage on his face surpassed any Aziraphale had ever seen. “We’re on our own side!” the demon hissed.

With that, he lunged at Aziraphale, straddling his lap as he pushed his lips against the angel’s. The blonde was too shocked to respond, but Crowley didn’t mind catching him up. He kissed Aziraphale hungrily while bringing the angel’s hands up to his hips. He only broke contact once he had his master’s full attention.

“C-Crowley…” Aziraphale said in a choked voice.

“Yeah,” the demon smiled, anger mixing with bravado and excitement. “That’s the name you’re going to be screaming in a minute.”

He sank to his knees before the armchair and Aziraphale could do little but watch as his belt was ripped from his waist. The redhead pulled down the khakis and pants keeping him from his prize, the thick and beautiful half-hard cock underneath.

“So good,” the demon groaned as his mouth closed around it, drawing a shocked gasp from the blonde. The angel’s fingers buckled down on the chair’s arms until his knuckles went white. Crowley had full control over the situation, and was taking Aziraphale apart piece by piece.

Crowley sucked on the tip while working his hand over the base, his eyes daring Aziraphale to do anything other than give in to him. The demon hummed low in his throat as he took the angel in deeper, his tongue roving around the turgid flesh in his mouth.

The blonde bucked up, his hips moving of their own accord as Crowley swallowed him down, and the sensation became overwhelming.

“Ohhh Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out, hardly able to believe what he was witnessing. Crowley’s wet tongue slid along the length of him as he popped out of his mouth, a trickle of saliva connecting his dick to the source of his pleasure.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Crowley sighed. He was fully clothed and yet sexier than Aziraphale had ever seen him. “Tell me how much you want this.”

His hand continued to stroke as the angel gasped out his words. “God, fuck! So much. I want you Crowley. Please!”

“Beg for it,” Crowley demanded, his tongue playing over the slit on the blonde’s tip.

“Damn it!” Aziraphale bucked up, trying to reconnect to the demon’s mouth. “Crowley, please! Finish me! I’ll do anything! Say anything, just, oh god, suck me off Crowley!”

Satisfied, the redhead swallowed him back down and didn’t stop until Aziraphale’s head fell back, a low whine escaping his throat as his spend coated the inside of Crowley’s throat in thick spurts.

Crowley kept stroking as he let the angel slip out of his mouth, a wicked grin on his face.

“Jesus, Crowley!” Aziraphale sighed and shivered, looking down at his demon in appreciation. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

The redhead continued to smile and blinked bashfully. “Somewhere...new,” he admitted. “Did you...did you like it?”

Aziraphale pulled his pet back into his lap and kissed down the side of his neck. “More than you can imagine,” he purred.


	11. Qualified

Crowley’s newfound independence manifested slowly. As the days went on he found new ways to express himself more assertively, but he also reverted to instinctual patterns that were decidedly adorable. One day Aziraphale heard a pronounced rustling sound that led him into the living room and froze when he entered, a hand clasped over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Crowley had apparently discovered a cardboard box leftover from the new microwave Aziraphale had purchased (the redhead had inadvertently ruined the last one when he reheated leftovers in aluminum foil). As the angel watched from afar, the demon contorted in ways previously thought impossible as he navigated the interior of the cube. Occasionally he would bite at the flaps before half-disappearing into the interior, only to lunge out of it and slide back inside.

Of course, said box was too small to afford full real estate for the demon, so at some point he settled with the lower half of his body sticking out, legs flailing in the air. At this point Aziraphale could no longer contain himself, and began to laugh in great shaking bursts.

Crowley’s head stuck out of the box on full alert, a charming blush dotting his cheeks as his eyes narrowed.

“Rude!” the demon objected, but all the angel could do was fall into a heap on the floor. Crowley sank back into the box and refused to come out for several hours.

-

Late in the evening Crowley was still up as Aziraphale tried to fall asleep, and eventually the angel went to find him. The demon was sitting at the dining table staring at the RBPS invitation.

“I thought I threw that away,” Aziraphale remarked as he sat opposite of his pet.

“You did,” Crowley admitted. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I think I should enter.”

The angel rested his head on his palm and looked carefully at the redhead. “We’ve talked about this,” he stated. “The consequences of a loss could be devastating.”

“The consequences of Sandalphon reporting us would be worse,” Crowley countered.

Aziraphale sat back and folded his arms. “This should be your choice, Crowley,” he said evenly. “You know my objections, but it’s time you started deciding for yourself about your own life. If it’s what you want, I’ll support you. And we’ll do everything in our power to make sure you win.”

Crowley smiled up at him confidently. “We will win,” he pledged.

-

Crowley and Aziraphale met with Madame Tracy a few days later. She was perhaps one of the most renowned former judges of the competition, and generously offered her assistance to help one of her own stock.

“Hello Crowley!” she cooed when she first saw him again. “How have you been?”

The demon sidled up to her and wiggled around in her arms, his face nothing but pure adoration. Aziraphale stood back and watched the reunion fondly until Madame Tracy turned more serious.

“We have a lot of work to do,” she intoned. “The qualifiers are the first step, and Crowley has never shown before. We will start with the basics and work our way up from there.”

Aziraphale nodded and squeezed Crowley’s hand. “We’re ready.”

“Excellent,” the woman said. “You’ll be starting in the breed ring, meaning that Crowley will be judged against all others in his group. There are several classes of demon, including Working, Sporting, Ornamental, Service, and Defensive. I think I know where Crowley falls, but it’s always a good idea to administer the type test just in case.”

Aziraphale clapped his hands together. “Marvelous! How is it done?”

Madame Tracy waved her hands around the the small park where they’d come together. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting up the course.”

The demon stood tall, ready to accept his first challenge.

“Now Crowley,” the woman went on, “Hidden in the course are a number of objects. You won’t know what they are beforehand, but must use your instincts to identify and retrieve those objects in order of priority. I’ll be timing you on my end to see how long it takes to make your mind up. Are you ready to begin?”

The redhead nodded fiercely, his eyes already scanning the terrain. On Madame Tracy’s mark, he sprinted away. Aziraphale watched him from afar as he investigated logs, bushes, and the small stream running through the park.

“Is there an average time or one he is to beat?” the angel asked.

The redhead looked at him and smiled. “Anything under five minutes is acceptable. Otherwise they are automatically categorized as Ornamental. But those usually give up within the first thirty seconds, if they even begin at all.”

It didn’t take long for Crowley to run back and throw a baby doll on the ground before their feet.

“What’s that mean?” Aziraphale asked.

“Please, let’s wait until he’s finished for assessment,” Madame Tracy said patiently.

In due time, and well under the five minute mark, Crowley additionally retrieved a ski mask, a hair bow, a hammer, and a tennis ball. He laid down next to the items, panting heavily while the masters looked on. Madame Tracy made some notes before sharing her results.

“Excellent work,” she said brightly as Crowley began to recover. “The order is significant, as you can imagine,” she explained. “Overall, Crowley is a service pet. This means he would show with others generally inclined to be reassuring and uplifting toward their owners. This trait is signified by the ‘baby’ he nurtured or cared for. His second strongest attribute is defensive. If an intruder entered your home Crowley would make short work of them. His third is ornamental as evidenced by the-” she cut off, realizing one of the objects had gone missing.

Crowley started when both she and Aziraphale pointed at the bow he’d surreptitiously put into his hair.

“What?” he asked.

Madame Tracy frowned. “Hmm. Ornamental might actually be equal to, if not higher than defensive,” she noted. “It signifies a well-developed ego, excessive preening, and a refined aesthetic.”

Crowley blinked prettily at Aziraphale, who chuffed. “Sounds about right.”

“The next, and weaker sensibilities are work ethic, signified by the hammer, which I noticed he carried by the head rather than the handle, and the tennis ball which is the emblem of the sporting breed. I doubt Crowley would hold up in a game of tennis, as less than five minutes of exercise nearly killed him.”

“Hey!” Crowley protested, though he still hadn’t risen from the ground.

“So if he’s to be classified with the Service group, what does that mean?” Aziraphale asked.

“It means he’ll have to beat out any other competitor in that category, which is fortunately smaller than say Ornamental or Working, which are more popular with Masters,” Madame Tracy explained. “This stage of the competition is purely about conformation. Crowley’s overall appearance and structure will be evaluated against the official standard.”

“I see,” Aziraphale replied. “Is that something we can go through now?”

“I’d recommend a more private locale,” Madam Tracy said briskly. “This portion of the evaluation will require Crowley to display in the nude.”

The redhead let out a hacking sound while Aziraphale grasped at his chest, both at the same time shouting, “WHAT???”


	12. Limits

Aziraphale was the fastest walker, practically jogging back to his house a few blocks away. “No!’ he protested over his shoulder. “No way! Absolutely not!”

“But Aziraphale!” Madame Tracy cried as she followed on his heels, a difficult task considering she was actually in six inch heels. “It’s just part of the competition!”

Crowley was last, sauntering along at least ten feet behind. He’d gotten over his initial shock and was now enjoying the chaotic scene playing out before him. He snickered and adjusted the bow in his hair.

Aziraphale skidded to a stop, hands waving in the air. “I will not, simply not have spectators ogling Crowley in his birthday suit! It’s unconscionable!”

Madame Tracy caught up to the blonde and huffed. “You’re the one who asked me to help with Crowley’s preparation. If you’re serious about quitting before we’ve even begun then I have other business to attend to!”

Crowley completed the trio and chimed in. “We can’t quit,” he said urgently. “You know we can’t. This is a little roadbump, an uncomfortable one I’ll admit, but...we have to do this.”

The seriousness in his eyes made Aziraphale reconsider. His shoulders slumped and he walked on, dragging his feet as he went. “I know,” he said softly. “Madame Tracy, if you’re willing to stick with us I think it’s best we proceed. My house is just right over there.” He pointed at the cottage-style home and Madame Tracy nodded in agreement.

“I promise I’ll make it as painless as possible,” she said.

When the three of them had settled in the living room, Madame Tracy asked Crowley to change into a robe and rejoin them. He came back slowly, his fingers twisting in the terry cloth belt.

“When you’re ready, Crowley,” she said soothingly. “I promise it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Remember, I am a breeder and a professional. The judges who will be handling you are certified as well. They are not there to ogle.”

Crowley took a deep breath and shrugged off the robe while Madame Tracy immediately went to work. She walked around him appraisingly before beginning her instructions.

“Head held high,” she said. “Back straight. Good. You have lovely proportions, Crowley. Aziraphale, what we are looking for here is height, bone and muscle structure, coat, and faults. Crowley is very tall and well-built, if not a little skinny. You might want to start feeding an extra meal each day until the competition.”

She raised her hands over Crowley’s chest and gave a brief warning. “I’m going to feel over your body,” she said. “Nothing inappropriate, just a thorough examination.”

The demon nodded and Madame Tracy quickly skimmed her hands over his arms, back, legs, and chest. “Very good. Mouth open, please.” She glanced inside at his pearly white teeth and nodded in approval. “Now lean down so I can take a good look at your coat, that is, the hair on your head of course.” She furrowed her fingers through his ginger locks, which were smooth and soft.

“Excellent,” she exclaimed. “Grooming will play a large role in the showing, so make sure you get him in the salon to pick a signature style in advance. One last step is gait. Please take a turn around the room, Crowley.”

The demon began to strut across the floor and Madame Tracy tsked. “Not like you’re on a runway. Take control of those hips and walk tall.”

Crowley tried again, but it was obvious he would need to practice. He couldn't keep the sway out of his step. “You’ll have to work on that,” Madame Tracy affirmed. She picked up the robe and handed it back to the redhead before sitting next to Aziraphale.

“The Service category is further judged on personality, so there will be a short exchange with the judges after the initial showing. Crowley will be asked a few questions and assessed on his answers.”

“Are the questions standardized?” the angel asked.

“For the most part,” Madame Tracy said. “But if the competition is tight they may be more complex. I think we’ll save that for our next meeting. I have several other appointments to attend to today. In the meantime, I suggest you watch footage from previous competitions. It will acquaint you better with previous winners as well as the format of the show.”

“Thank you so much,” Aziraphale said heartfully as he lead her to the door. The two continued to chat while Crowley collapsed onto the sofa, sighing with relief.

Aziraphale returned to his side after seeing Madame Tracy out and sat down next to him, one hand on his knee. “It seems we have a lot of work to do if we’re going to pull this off,” he stated. His thumb traced small circles over the demon’s leg while he stared at the wall across from him.

Crowley looked down at his master’s hand and licked his lower lip. “I suppose I should be practicing as much as possible,” he said. “Perhaps I should start now…”

He stood up and glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Aziraphale was eyeing him with interest. With a wicked grin on his face Crowley began to loosen his robe, letting it fall over his bare shoulder.

The angel blinked and leaned forward, his palms covering his thighs. “What are you up to Crowley?” he asked huskily.

“Nothing!” the redhead swore as the robe slipped lower, now exposing his naked back to the blonde. “It’s just...something about being exhibited kind of put me in a mood.”

“Ah,” Aziraphale said, clearing his throat. “And what kind of mood would that be?”

The demon let the robe fall down and his small perfect cheeks were displayed. Aziraphale hummed to himself. “Maybe you should practice that walk,” he suggested.

Crowley walked slowly to the far wall, knowing that the angel was charting every muscle as he moved. He turned around while keeping his front covered in one hand, gently squeezing himself until he began to harden. “Do you like to watch me?” he asked.

The blonde leaned back on the couch, his eyes simmering. “Yes,” he whispered.

The demon stroked down his length, arching his back as he maintained eye contact. His other hand tugged at his ginger locks, the grip so tight that his chin moved up and exposed his throat. “Zira…”

The angel was up and across the room before he could even think about it, stripping his coat and waistcoat along the way. He crashed into the demon and began to touch every exposed inch of him while kissing his neck.

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale purred. “Perfect.” His arms encircled Crowley and the pair of them crumpled onto the floor. Crowley leaned back and opened his legs, inviting the angel closer. Aziraphale’s body formed so well against his own.

“Crowley…” the blonde whispered. “Do you think we might…?”

The demon nodded as he laid down. “Oh Zira,” he sighed when he felt the angels fingers pressing at his entrance. He must have used a miracle to lubricate his hand because his eager fingers were already pushing their way inside.

“I want you like this,” Aziraphale whispered. “From now until the end of time.”

“Anything. Always,” Crowley agreed. The angel continued to tease him until neither of them could stand it, and lined himself up, eagerly sliding into the demon.

Crowley gasped and Aziraphale caught his hands, pinning his wrists above the demon’s head as he pumped into him. “You’re mine,” the angel growled. Crowley whimpered, responding to the subservient conditioning like a glutton, but something else was competing with his instinctual drive.

Suddenly, he surged up and captured the blonde’s lips, kissing him desperately before falling back onto the floor. “I’m yours,” he said quickly, “but you’re mine as well.”

Aziraphale groaned at the admission and pulled Crowley up until he was positioned on his lap. From that angle, the demon could piston himself up and down on the angel’s cock while Aziraphale sat back and watched hungrily.

“The way you move,” the blonde gasped as he gripped Crowley’s hips. “You’re intoxicating.” A thought occurred to him as he watched the demon ride him and he snarled. “The thought of anyone seeing you...gawping at you!”

Crowley’s eyes were hooded. He grasped the angel’s hands and drew them up his body. “You’re jealous,” he said with a coy smile. “What a silly notion. No one else can make me feel like this.” He dropped his head back as if to prove his point, and Aziraphale groaned appreciatively. He tried to sit up but the demon held him down, taking his pleasure at his own pace. Aziraphale laid back, learning to enjoy the view instead.

“I’ll promise you this,” Crowley said between moans. “When I’m exhibited there will only be one person I’m looking at. You and only you will exist to me in that moment. Just like right now.”

That seemed to appease the angel, who reached out to stroke the demon’s dripping cock. Just a few pumps from his hand brought Crowley over the edge. As he rode through his high, Aziraphale turned them and forced the redhead back to the floor, taking his own pleasure in a frenzied rush. As he came he let his head fall down on Crowley’s chest and lay there bonelessly until a crick in his neck forced him to move.

“You’ll only look at me?” Aziraphale asked after a long time.

Crowley threaded his fingers into the blonde curls and pulled gently. “Only at you.”

The angel nodded. Maybe that would be enough to get him through.


	13. Battle Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh writer's block has kept me away from this fic for too long. I'm just going to write through the writer's block, if that makes any sense. Back to the story!

Madame Tracy followed up with Aziraphale and Crowley a few days after the redhead’s initial assessment. As promised, she went over the interview portion of the event, explaining that congeniality and adherence to breed were two of the most important factors.

“Being in the Service category requires many facets and characteristics. An initial question might be something broad, such as: tell me about yourself, Crowley.” Tracy said.

Crowley was sitting next to Aziraphale in their backyard. “Well,” the redhead began, “I’m in the Service category. My name is Crowley. And I love Aziraphale.”

Tracy laughed and nodded. “Of course, the basics are important. But what kind of things do you like to do? What motivates and inspires you?”

Crowley thought deeply before replying. “Making Zira happy is the most important thing to me, but he likes to make me happy too. Sometimes he takes me to special places like the park or Mr. Gabriel’s house to play with my friend Beez. Basically, I love my life, but Zira most of all.”

Tracy looked at Aziraphale. “These are definitely important things to mention, but the judges want to know something special about Crowley. Is there anything about him that makes him stand out?”

The angel blushed. “Why, everything about Crowley stands out. He’s kind and thoughtful, brave and loyal… He sometimes toes the line with me, which just shows how independent his thinking is. I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

Tracy noticed Crowley’s toys in the corner of the room and indicated toward them. “Crowley, tell me about your things.”

The redhead jumped up and grabbed his stuffed letter B and the snake toy, bringing them back to show Madame Tracy. “This is my snake Mr. Wiggles,” he began, demonstrating how the toy moved. “I think snakes are really cool. A lot of people are afraid of them but I’m not! I think they’re just misunderstood.”

Tracy nodded her understanding. “And that’s important to you, isn’t it? You don’t think people or things should be judged by appearances?”

“Right,” Crowley agreed. “Everything is more complex than that. Here we live in a place with angels and demons all around us, for example. Some angels look good but they aren’t really, like Sandalphon. Others look intimidating like Mr. Gabriel, but they’re actually really nice and good friends to Zira.”

“Maybe leave out specific names there,” Tracy advised. “But that’s very interesting. Definitely indicative of your breed. Now what about this other toy?” She held up the B noticing it had wings spreading out from either side.

“This is the Flying B hood ornament from Bentley,” he explained. “The first version appeared in the early 1930s on the model 8-Litre, but it was optional. Before that it was flat on the hood of the car, circa 1919, when W.O. Bentley founded his company. It’s interesting you bring this up, because I’ve recently learned they are redesigning the logo and-”

“Whoah, hold up,” Madame Tracy said with a smile. “This is obviously a subject you’re very passionate about. Why are you so obsessed with Bentley’s? I haven’t even seen one in my lifetime, I don’t think.”

“Mr. Bentley found the extraordinary in the ordinary,” Crowley explained. “He was an inventor and an innovator whose advances in engineering helped create better planes during the first world war. Did you know his original inspiration to rebuild alloy pistons from aluminium came from staring at a paperweight? Who else can look at the world like that? He’s my hero. Also...I like to go really, really fast. It’s fun. Like when I’m flying.”

Madame Tracy couldn’t stop grinning. “Crowley, I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble with the interview portion. I think we can move on to the talent competition now.”

Aziraphale beamed at the redhead proudly. “Well done, you,” he whispered.

“Many of the demons you’ll be competing with have honed some special skill or trick for the final portion of the show,” Madame Tracy explained. “There’s the usual stuff like singing or dancing...but some use miracles to do something really special. That tends to go over better with the judges.”

“There’s just one problem,” Crowley said. “I have no idea what I would do.”

“Good thing you have time to figure that out. As long as Aziraphale is around you are allowed to practice your miracles. We only have a few weeks before the competition.” Madame Tracy stood up and bid them farewell, off to another appointment, as usual.

Once she’d gone Crowley began to grow agitated. “I have to do something extraordinary,” he fretted. “If I lose the competition I could lose you, Zira.”

The angel hugged his pet tightly and whispered against his brow. “That will never happen, my love. We’ll find something amazing. I just know it.”

“Would it be okay if I started practicing now?” the demon asked.

“Sure!” Aziraphale agreed. “Why don’t you practice out here for the time being? I’ll be just inside if you need me. I have to do a few things for work tomorrow, but I’ll come check on you later.”

“Okay,” Crowley said. He waited until his master went inside before staring at the ground morosely. He wasn’t even sure what the extent of his powers were.

He decided to start small, summoning a bottle of wine to ease his mind. That seemed to work well as a rare vintage showed up, already uncorked. Next, he tried bigger tasks like switching two small shrubs back and forth in the garden. He realized he wished he’d thought of that sooner given how much landscape designing he could have done already. He tried to do it with two trees instead, and was embarrassed when one manifested upside down, but he was able to fix it by concentrating harder.

Of course, he would need to think of something flashier to impress the judges. Setting Dagon’s shoe on fire probably wouldn’t do the trick. Obviously, he’d need to check out some of the footage from past shows to get a feel for the competition. In order to do that, he was going to need some help.

-

Crowley enlisted Beelzebub’s help the very next day. After having been over to Gabriel’s house multiple times, Aziraphale agreed he could go on his own while their masters were at work. Crowley knew the way very well by then, and almost rolled his eyes when he remembered getting lost in his own neighborhood. This was a cake walk.

Once he arrived, he asked Bee to help him You a Tube, and fortunately they knew exactly what he was talking about. Bee found several videos from the showcase portion going back several years, and the pair settled in to watch as many of them as they could stand.

Most of the pets stuck to traditional talents, but the ones who got top marks had a much more ambitious approach to the competition. One did an extremely daring acrobatic act in tandem with her owner, while another played a complex opera using several glasses filled with different amounts of water. Those who preferred to utilize their miraculous powers definitely brought the house down, including an indoor fireworks show and a demon who was able to make every person in the audience hover in the air. The trick with that, however, was these showstopping acts only worked once. The pets were forced to get more and more creative each year.

“Getting any ideas?” Bee asked as they watched a hula-dancing pet swallow a sword.

“Nyeh,” Crowley replied. “Let’s find Dagon’s act. I want to see what I’m up against.”

Bee scrolled through the videos until they landed on one from the last competition which Dagon had won. At first the performance seemed rather benign, but it was all part of the dramatic buildup. Dagon was dancing gracefully before moving into a difficult spin, her body lengthening as her arms craned toward the sky. The spin became faster and faster until sparks of fire began to shoot out around her. Crowley watched in fascination as his rival became a fiery cyclone, her eyes glowing orange as she lifted her head up and blew out a tendril of flame that danced in time with her movements.

The audience was initially stunned and no one spoke while Dagon danced. At last, she snapped her fingers and the entire pavilion vanished into darkness. It only lit up again once everyone started clapping and cheering.

“Holy shit,” Bee groused. “How the hell are you supposed to beat that?”

“I’m not,” Crowley said sadly. He looked at his friend with absolute panic in his eyes. “Bee...I’m going to lose Zira!”


	14. Best in Breed

There was a storm that night. Crowley’s eyes flashed open as a lightning bolt pierced through the sky. Zira was sleeping peacefully beside him, unperturbed. Thunder followed, and Crowley gave in to his preternatural instinct to seek cover.

He dove under the bed just in time for three more thunder strikes. At this point, his teeth were chattering and he was humming low in his chest. This was the end.

A warm hand prodded his side and a sweet voice beckoned him up and out, away from the fear. He was picked up round the middle and tucked into the soft heat of a body that echoed encouragement.

“Here now, my love,” Aziraphale whispered. “There’s nothing to fear.”

Crowley snuggled into the assurances and stopped flinching as the storm carried on. It’s safe here. It’s safe with him. His eyelids grew heavier with each exhalation. My love.

-

Crowley was bouncing on his toes, tugging at the lead around his neck, and whispering something to himself over and over. “Have to win,” he breathed out. “Have to win, havetowinhavetowin…”

A hand soothed down his spine and he was distracted enough to glance at Aziraphale beside him. The blonde’s expression was pained but reassuring. The thrum of the crowd reacting as each pet came out reminded Crowley too much of the storm several days ago. He stared at his master to ground himself.

“And up next, first-time competitor Anthony J. Crowley!” an announcer’s voice boomed.

Crowley’s eyes were blinded by the stadium lighting as two curtains opened before him. He took a step forward and nearly stumbled, but then he was trotting along at the pace Madame Tracy had recommended. The audience cheered for him and suddenly Crowley was feeling quite jaunty. He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, which had recently been trimmed to the nape with the top left long.

Aziraphale was jogging along at his side and in a short minute they reached the other side of the arena where Crowley was made to stand and pose for the judges. One, a sour-faced woman with sharp eyes gave him a once over and nodded in approval. The tall man beside her actually smiled, and the third judge, a dark-haired beauty with overly large glasses, opened her mouth in awe. Apparently gingers were rare in the competition, a fact that both Crowley and his master had been gambling on.

Aziraphale shot his pet a secret smile and Crowley positively beamed. He couldn’t resist the urge to stick out his hips and swipe off his sunglasses for a moment, throwing a wink at the crowd. The subtle move brought the house down, filling Crowley with sudden confidence. He could do this. They could do this.

As they made their way to their assigned spot on the floor, Aziraphale caught sight of Gabriel and Bee in the stands. He gave them a small wave and laughed when he saw Bee had made a sign on posterboard. He pointed out the pair to Crowley and he grinned widely. ‘Crowley #1’ was painted sloppily next to a childish rendition of a blue ribbon, but it was the thought that counted.

Once all of the competitors in the service breed were assembled, the judges walked around the room to assess each pet. Since this was the preliminary competition, only one from the service breed would move forward to the final round. Crowley held his breath as the judges came to assess him more thoroughly. They had already nodded at one of the pets who moved to the center of the ring, a huge smile on their face. Then they nodded at another. Only one spot left, and no one knew what order they were in for first, second, and third place.

Part of their inspection included the things Madame Tracy had explained, including a good look at his canines and his coat. Instead of disrobing, however, they felt for the musculature over his clothes and seemed satisfied at that. Crowley knew he wouldn’t get away without enduring the more humiliating review if he made it to the main show.

Crowley nearly fainted when he was nodded on, and Aziraphale squealed as he ushered them to the center. The sound of the crowd was overwhelming, but there was still the matter of being sorted. Aziraphale was holding tightly to the lead in his hands as the judges momentarily commiserated. The brunette woman was the first to rejoin them and she held out her hand toward Crowley.

“Best of Breed, Anthony J. Crowley!” she declared.

Crowley was instantly bombarded by camera flashes as he was led to a large platform where a ribbon within a ribbon (ad infinitum) was handed to him. Aziraphale stood next to him, out of his mind with glee.

“We did it!” Crowley whispered to him excitedly. Aziraphale had to restrain himself from overreacting, to allow himself to show all that he was really feeling in the moment.

They endured what must have been a few hundred photographs and handshakes before being allowed to leave the arena. Gabriel and Bee were waiting for them on the sidelines, looking like they had won personally rather than just cheering on their friends.

“I’m so proud of you!” Gabriel said as he clapped Aziraphale on the back. Bee nuzzled into Crowley’s shoulder and tried to blot an unshed tear on his shirt surreptitiously.

“I’d love to celebrate further,” Aziraphale said, “but I’m afraid we need to rest up before the main event tomorrow morning.”

“Naturally!” Gabriel agreed. “We just wanted to wish you well. Look for us in the stands tomorrow!” He pulled Bee along with him as they left the building, and soon Aziraphale was guiding Crowley to the attached hotel.

Crowley looked so happy, happier than Aziraphale had ever seen him. The blonde blushed as they rode the elevator together. He couldn’t wait to get his pet alone.

They had barely walked into the room when Aziraphale sprang, pushing the redhead up against the wall. “You marvelous creature,” he whispered against Crowley’s neck before kissing it thoroughly. “Simply stunning.”

Crowley let out a little cry before redirecting his master’s lips to his own. “Zira,” he whined. “Need you.”

Aziraphale didn’t need any further enticement, but ripped the buttoned shirt off of the redhead to expose his lean torso. Crowley slid against the wall to guide them toward the bed, loathe to interrupt their kiss.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” the blonde urged as they made it to their destination. Crowley fell onto his back and was already bucking up against Aziraphale’s hard cock.

“Make love to me,” Crowley begged as he eagerly removed the blonde’s shirt.

Aziraphale turned away to find the lube, and faced a nude Crowley as soon as he looked back at the redhead. He slipped out of his trousers and pants, staring down at his pet in admiration. Crowley was flushed and panting with desire, his erection throbbing and leaking against his stomach.

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t make me wait.”

Aziraphale inhaled deeply before slicking his fingers and pressing them against the tight ring of muscle where Crowley wanted him. The redhead bucked up enthusiastically, his hands grabbing at the sheets.

“Ohh look at you,” Aziraphale teased. “Ready so quickly. Anything for my little winner.”

“Mm!” Crowley was enormously pleased with those words and what his master’s fingers were doing inside of him. “Yes!”

“You’re such a good boy,” Aziraphale continued. He leaned down to lick and drag his teeth over Crowley’s nipples. The redhead made a strangled sound and bared down on Aziraphale’s hand. The blonde let his kisses drift lower and lower until he brushed one along Crowley’s length.

“Oh fuck!” Crowley cried out. He threw his head back and was surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He was crying out of happiness and didn’t want to waste a second of it. He memorized the feeling of Aziraphale’s hands, his mouth, his tongue. This might be the last time that...but no. Crowley pushed away any dark thoughts that assaulted him. This moment was about him and Aziraphale alone.

The blonde pushed inside of him, hips stuttering as he tried to go as slowly as possible, but Crowley wasn’t having any of it.

“More! Now!” he demanded. “Deeper! Make me feel it!”

Aziraphale gasped out a laugh as he sank in to the hilt, pulsing against Crowley’s prostate. The redhead mewled and lifted up his hips, hand settling over his hard cock and stroking furiously.

“I love you,” he breathed out in desperation as Aziraphale smacked harder and deeper inside of him. “I love you, I love you, love you…”

The blonde gasped and lifted his chin to heaven, trying to make it last longer, but Crowley was taking himself over the edge already. Hot seed spurted up over Aziraphale’s chest and down his stomach as he pulsed through the last vestiges of his own orgasm.

Aziraphale was falling down but Crowley’s arms were pulling him faster, bringing their sweat and cum-soaked chests together. Their breaths were sharp and fast but soon fell into a steady rhythm together.

“Don’t let me go tonight,” the redhead whimpered. “Don’t take your hands off of me for a second.”

Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s sideburn and nuzzled into his ear. “Never,” he breathed out, fingers digging into the redhead’s bones. “I promise.”


	15. Showtime

Crowley’s heart was pounding as they approached the arena. He’d already been there. He’d already taken Best in Breed. He tried to remind himself that this was just the next step, but everything was hanging on the line. The chance that he’d be taken away from Aziraphale was more than enough motivation, as it was the reason his knees knocked together subtly.

He caught glimpses of other contestants in the prep room, most being fluffed with hair dryers or patted with matte powder to perfect the finishing touches. For his part, Aziraphale was merely sitting by close to him, a reserved yet strong expression on his face.

“I believe in you,” he said, and Crowley nodded, steeling his gaze. That would have to be enough, even if he didn’t believe in himself.

The lights in the room turned red, signaling the first round. A simple walkthrough, this stage of the event would rule out those unfit to compete based on how the pets handled themselves. “Head held high,” Crowley mumbled to himself. “Eyes on the judges. And don’t trip. Don’t trip! Don’t trip!”

Aziraphale moved and Crowley followed, bracing himself for the arena lights once more. As they walked forward he caught a glimpse of Sandalphon and Dagon up ahead. The angel looked confident while his pet looked slightly bored. Of course, she’d been through the ringer more than a few times. “Don’t compare yourself,” Crowley whispered. Plus, he had the element of surprise. Today’s judges would be composed of a completely different panel.

Names were called out ahead of them until it was finally time to go. Crowley heard his own name bellowed into the microphone and was surprised by the reaction from the crowd. Apparently he’d made a reputation for himself the day before. He trotted out and gazed into the stands seeing multiple signs with his name on them.

‘Crowley #1!” ‘Gingers Can Win Her!’ and ‘I Heart Crowley’ were scrawled in bright letters as the audience went wild. He perked up, immediately luxuriating in the attention. Aziraphale began to walk and he fell into step, practicing a slight dressage around the ring. As they rounded the judges’ table, Crowley shot a brilliant smile their way. Aziraphale stopped so that he could present himself, and Crowley took advantage of the opportunity to rip off his sunglasses, glancing back over his shoulder at the crowd. Their cheers drowned the area and Crowley couldn’t help but play it up a little more. He ran a hand through his perfect hair before pretending to drop his glasses. Slowly, he stooped to pick them up, giving everyone a lovely view of his sinuous lines.

“Devil!” Aziraphale censored, but he didn’t seem upset at all.

The pair took their place off to one side and waited for the other competitors to enter. Crowley noticed there was very little charisma oozing off any of them. He grinned to himself and caught a glimpse of Madam Tracy in the crowd. She shot him a smile that assured him he wouldn’t be the first to go.

The judges walked around the arena and conferred from time to time. At last, they signaled for three of the pets to approach, and summarily waved them away. Aziraphale let out a contended sigh and Crowley nearly bent to the knees to catch his breath, but restrained himself. He’d just made it through the first round.

Back in the prep room, Aziraphale fixed up his pet’s hair and had him change into his robe.

“I know this isn’t going to be the easiest part,” he confided, “but remember to look at me if you need to. I’m here for you, darling.”

“I know,” Crowley replied. He nuzzled into the comfy terry cloth, trying to pretend that he wasn’t about to bare it all in front of thousands of people. It was just part of the competition, anyways. No one was going to be ogling him. Or at least he thought that until Sandalphon appeared before them.

“Mmm,” the angel lilted. “My favorite part’s coming up. I do love to browse the merchandise before making a selection.”

Aziraphale frowned at him. “Crowley isn’t going to be on the menu,” he said icily. “So you might as well move along.”

Sandalphon chuckled darkly. “We’ll see about that,” he replied, darting a long look up and down Crowley’s clothed frame. “In fact, I’m about to see everything that’s on offer.”

Aziraphale’s hands turned into fists at his sides, but Crowley brought him out of it with a touch. “Don’t listen to him,” the redhead said soothingly. “He’s just trying to throw us off.”

“Or make me throw up,” the blonde grumbled. “But don’t let me distract you, my dear. I know you’re going to be marvelous in there. Are you up to it?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and pretended to be totally unaffected. “Piece of cake. S’not like I haven’t had enough practice walking around naked.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks reddened. “Point taken.”

Soon the pets were paraded back through the arena, each taking their place as the judges examined them once again. Only this time, the pets were stripping off their robes for inspection. Crowley kept his gaze on the ceiling, not wanting to invade the other pets’ privacy. They already had a million eyes on them as it was.

When the judges came to Crowley, Aziraphale stepped in front of him and extended his hand. “You can do this,” he mouthed.

Crowley nodded and stripped off his robe, handing it to his owner. It was amazing how quiet it was inside the arena. The audience members had been asked to remain completely silent for the judges. One of them asked Crowley to walk and turn, and in doing so he made the extreme mistake of looking to the side. Sandalphon was devouring him with his eyes.

Crowley fought off the encroaching blush and forced himself to stay professional. This was a mere few minutes of torture, he reminded himself. Soon he’d be back in the robe and on Aziraphale’s arm. He looked at his owner, locking eyes with him. He pretended that they were the only two people in the room, even as the judges ran their hands over him or pulled down his lip to see his teeth.

‘Zira,’ he wanted to say so badly. He felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed. The judges seemed to be taking an even longer time with him than the others, but maybe that was a good sign.

It seemed like a year before the judges finally finished, moving on to the next contestant while Crowley began to tremble. Aziraphale was at his side in a blink, covering him with the robe.

“You did well!” he whispered encouragingly. “Really well, my dear! I’m so proud of you!”

Crowley took a deep breath and smiled at his owner. “Yeah?”

The blonde’s eyes sparkled. “Perfect,” he assured him. “Next up is the interview section, and the talent portion at the last. Are you still going to surprise me?”

Crowley smiled shyly. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I want it to be a secret until then. Is that okay?” The angel had been bugging him about it for days, but Crowley had amazingly declined to give him any details.

“More than okay,” Aziraphale replied. “I’m actually quite excited! It must be something very special.”

“Yes!” the redhead practically glowed. “At least...I hope so.”

-

The pair had a break for lunch and then went through the interview process. Unlike other parts of the competition, the pets were brought out one by one into the arena. Crowley had been nervous about speaking to a large crowd, but Madame Tracy had prepared him well. The judges simply wanted an explanation about how he fit his breed, his interests, and his goals for the future.

Crowley was a little thrown off by the last question. He supposed that winning the competition would be his most immediate goal, but he couldn’t tell them anything about wanting to be even more independent in his relationship with Aziraphale. Instead, he mumbled about entering the competition again the following year, though he had no intention of doing so. When this felt lackluster, he talked about wanting to become the best pet he could be. This seemed to make the judges happy, and he was finally dismissed to go back to his owner.

Aziraphale was waiting by the side of the ring and escorted him back into the waiting area.

“Splendidly done, my dear,” he whispered. “You were bright and articulate. Though I’d rather we not go through this next year.”

“Me neither!” Crowley confessed. “I just couldn’t think of anything else to say. I did mean wanting to be better for you, though not quite the way I explained it.”

“I know that,” the angel sighed. “And you know that I want nothing more than to have you as my equal. We’ll work on that together.”

-

Crowley and Aziraphale watched as the other pets performed from backstage. The talent portion of the competition was wildly disparate, as Crowley had already seen from the online footage. Everyone was doing their best to stand out, but some pets seemed to miss the memo about originality.

Crowley felt sorry for a young blonde pet that tried to do a complicated dance and seemed to forget her steps. She was immediately eliminated. Another pet decided to sing a song, and though he belted his heart out, the tired act wasn’t enough to keep the judges interested. He was dismissed from the competition as well.

The angel and the demon waited with bated breath for Dagon’s performance. They both knew she had extraordinary talent, and an unmatched ability when it came to performing miracles. Crowley watched as she walked by them, wearing a diaphanous gown that made her look even more awe-inspiring. Crowley shuddered as she walked by, knowing that one great trick from her would shut him out completely. And then what?

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm as their eyes tracked across the television monitor showing the inside of the arena. The audience erupted into cheers as Dagon strode out, and she loved every bit of their attention. When she was ready, she moved to the center and waited with her head bowed.

A soft song swelled into existence as her wings unfolded, and Crowley gasped. She’d miracled them into a rainbow of colors that sparkled off of the arena’s bright lights. In time with the music, she flew up into the sky and snapped her fingers. Fiery hoops appeared, hovering in the air in different places. When she heard her cue, she dove through the first one, just narrowly avoiding the flames. The crowd gasped in suspense as she emerged through the other side.

When approaching the next hoop, Dagon began to spin and spread out her wings to their limits. It was only at the last second that she pulled in her limbs and feathers, again avoiding the crackling fire. The crowd clapped together and whispered loudly while Crowley’s heart fell. It was such a fantastic spectacle!

Dagon continued to perform different tricks for each hoop, and at the last, she actually grabbed it from the air and spun around like a circus performer, miraculously unburnt. The fire turned from red to blue and then to white, small firecrackers exploding around her as it drifted serenely toward the ground. When she hopped off of it, the cheers became an overwhelming din. Even Aziraphale had to plug his ears.

Crowley’s palms were sweating as Dagon walked by him triumphantly.

“Beat that!” the pet spat out at him. Crowley felt like he might faint. He wasn’t sure if his performance could win. He’d been planning to do some transferring miracles, moving the judges into the audience and vice versa. He thought it would be clever, but now he realized it wasn’t clever enough. He needed an alternate plan, and fast.

Desperation shot through his body as his name was called, and Aziraphale gave him one last encouraging smile. “I believe in you!” the angel promised. Crowley nodded and walked into the arena.

The crowd had calmed down and all eyes were on him as he went to the center as if going to his execution. He had absolutely no fucking idea what to do. All he knew was that he loved Aziraphale. He wanted to stay with his angel. And as he caught Sandalphon’s shifty eyes scanning over him in the distance, he knew that he never, never wanted to be owned by that man. It was inspiration enough.

Crowley didn’t have music or any other distractions as he lifted up one hand and pointed to the massive clock over the judges table. The audience went totally silent as he continued to point, his arm starting to shake as he concentrated. He’d never concentrated so singularly on one thing before, but this was the difference between liberty and slavery. He dug deeper and focused everything into the moment.

The second hand on the clock was ticking by, moving in time as it should until it didn’t. It began to slow. Each second was stretched into two, and then three. Crowley narrowed his eyes and felt his limbs begin to burn.

At last the second hand stopped altogether, and the crowd would have applauded if they could have. Instead, eyes gazed motionlessly out of frozen bodies. Everyone in the arena was literally stuck in the moment. A woman who had just thrown popcorn toward her mouth watched as a single piece sat stationary, just beyond her reach. A man who had been waving a sign found that his arms couldn’t move. For just a little while, maybe less than thirty seconds, nobody could do a single thing.

Crowley held on as long as he could, eventually dropping to the ground after exhausting his powers. Now he was the one immobilized, barely able to think or breathe as the spell was broken.

The sound of the crowd came to him slowly, and when he gained the energy to look up, he saw everyone was positively screaming his name in awe and wonder. He took in a deep breath and stood on wobbly legs.

Aziraphale appeared at his side to help him keep upright, his voice shouting wordlessly in Crowley’s ear. Something like ‘amazing’ or ‘unbelievable’ echoed in his brain. Was this it? Had he done it? Had he beaten Dagon? A grin began to form over his lips as he watched the judges conferring excitedly. He knew for a fact that no pet had ever done anything like this before.

He leaned into Aziraphale and began to laugh, so happy that he could cry. It was only out of the corner of his eye that he saw Dagon flash by, her hands fisted in anger as she moved past him. The other pet screamed loud enough to rise over even the audience’s crazed shouting as she pointed at the clock, stopping it even faster than Crowley had. The redhead looked on in horror as the clock, himself, and everyone around him froze once more. And then Dagon shot him a wicked grin, seemingly unaffected.

“You call that a miracle?” she cried out, stabbing her finger toward the clock again.

Crowley watched as the second hand shuddered and moved...but this time it went backwards. One, two, three seconds before she released her hold over it. She fell to the ground like Crowley had, but this time it wasn’t his name the crowd was shouting.

Crowley swayed on his feet as his knees gave out, letting a choked sob escape his lips. “No!”


End file.
